A Broken Chrysalis
by noire-esque
Summary: Hermione will risk going to extraordinary lengths to help uncover the answers Harry is searching for. Even if it means mixing with the dark world of Pure Bloods. Hermione/Narcissa Hermione/Bellatrix Narcissa/Bellatrix
1. Chapter 1

Hi there! :3 Thought I'd just give some salutations before writing. Welcome! This is my first attempt at writing a fanfiction of any kind so I hope it is up to par. I love reading HP femslash and thought why not give it a try xD I love stories that are long and detailed so here's my own spin on things.

Which brings me to...

**Warnings: **You read the summary. Pairings are largely girl on girl so if this offends you turn away now. I assume you didn't click on "Hermione/Narcissa/Bellatrix loveee" by accident but just in case here's your chance to exit the scene (I promise I won't tell anyone). Also, I like to keep the Malfoy/LeStrange characters dark so I've rated this story as M just for safety (le sexy time and probably some violence will come later).

**Disclaimer: **JK Rowling is remarkable. Thank you for making our lives _magical_ (see what I did there?). What she owns is all hers. I take no credit for this.

**Timeline: **Okay, so I've based my story fairly loosely from the movies starting with Half Blood Prince. It'll progress but I'm not sure what into yet so stay tuned.

**A/N: **I'll try to update as often as I can. I have written a few chapters in advance as back up but I am largely writing this between university and life (when I say life I mean N64 and study). All reviews are greatly appreciated! I'm always looking for ways to better my writing.  
So far the story is mostly from Hermione's POV. I may experiment with other characters such as the Black sisters too

Enjoy! :3

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Chapter One

Darkness shrouded the empty corridor that appeared to expand and contract with every tentative step that was taken by the young wizard. Droplets of perspiration beaded his face as he clawed at the wall in support, pressing his back firmly against the stone cold surface. The difference in temperature made his stomach churn and he dared not to breathe as a faint emerald light flickered rapidly from within an open chamber. Beyond his slumber, Harry merely stirred as he began twisting with discomfort; the old sheets that his Aunt had given him constricted his lower limbs and his scar made his temples throb in unison with the green light he saw in his dreams. Within his self-conscious, Harry struggled under the immense burning sensation the lightning bolt scar radiated as he began closing the distance between himself and the door frame. His body felt heavier and the corridor's air became thick with a stench that made Harry double-over dry retching. The pain was familiar but never did it become more bearable. Looking up after wiping his mouth on his sleeve, Harry noticed now that the illuminations were stagnant and the haunting light lingered. The door frame was now only a few footsteps away.

Harry strained his ears, pressing his body against the icy surface. He was not alone. Familiar voices could be heard beyond the wall but the Gryffindor could not acquaint faces to them. With what little strength he had left, Harry finally made it to the room's entrance. He listened closely to the conversations. His eyes widened as he recognised the emotionless tone of Professor Snape. Shooting a chancy look from beyond his poorly lit sanctuary, Harry caught a glimpse of the surroundings. The room was far wider than the first floor of the Dursley's house and the high ceilings dwarfed the three cloaked occupants standing in the centre. The ominous glow protruded from the wand of a sickening hand. Thick myrtle curtains were drawn over expensive windows and against the furthest wall, flames licked greedily at the remaining dry wood concealed in a marbled fireplace. On the floor surrounding those that stood, laid several bodies and Harry had to avert his gaze away and gag. The disfigurement of the disjointed limbs and the bile pooled at the heads of the victims was just too much too soon after the death of his uncle. Again he forced himself to look; keeping his gaze above the figures sprawled across the varnished, hardwood floors.

"Draco," the named ricocheted off the high ceilings and struck fear into the heart of Harry. The burning sensation on his forehead had become more intense.

The Malfoy heir removed the hood of his robe to reveal his platinum blonde hair. Although the Gryffindor could not see, Draco's lip quivered as he distracted his eyes away from the speaker to the fireplace behind. The flames reflected off the glistening in his eyes. He was afraid. The hand that held his wand was clammy and from under his robes, the tailored suit he was wearing was drenched in sweat. Harry caught sight of the dim glow radiating from Draco's wand. The colour was much like the other hooded figure's and with a simple wrist movement, the light went out.

A firm hand, which Harry knew belonged to his potions professor, steadied the trembling Slytherin until his eyes finally rested on the speaker. Snape shook the boy once violently; indicating to address the cloaked figured that stood before them.

"You have done well Draco. See? You can do it. You have our full support." The words were more hissed than spoken and the deathly hand indicated to the fallen bodies on the ground. Wandless, Harry only assumed they were Muggles. His blood boiled as he continued listening.

"You can redeem your family Draco." The haunting voice cooed. "You know what you must do."

The blonde haired boy nodded, suppressing a whimper under the grip of his teacher. He knew better than to show signs of weakness. Harry looked on; the only person to speak was now facing Snape directly.

"Severus," the voice lingered on the last syllable "see to it that Mister Potter does not escape." Three heads simultaneously whipped around to the entrance, their eyes boring into Harry's. He raised his wand in defence against an oncoming spell which merely hit the spot where Harry was only moments before as the Gryffindor instead opted to take refuge behind the wall. He breathed deeply, the stench flooded his nostrils and his heart hammered against his chest. The green light illuminated brightly and Harry could now see clearly down the once darkened hallway. His breath fixed, no one had chased him or continued hexing but something far worse caught his eye. Still clutching at the wall, Harry diverted his gaze down the corridor. Only a dozen steps away was Nagini. Her body glided over the polished floors, rapidly approaching the Gryffindor. In Harry's attempt to curse the snake, it dawned on him that he couldn't move. His clothes stuck to the wall as if it was made of tar. He could feel his lungs compress as the vertical surface sunk Harry into itself. The serpent closed the distance, rearing back on her muscular frame and stretching her powerful jaws to reveal rows of razor sharp fangs. Harry screamed for mercy in parseltongue as he felt the first strike. Fangs piercing skin and puncturing vital organs.

Another followed.

And another.

Crimson blood gushed out of the places Nagini targeted. It would be slow. Harry knew this. Nagini liked to play games with her prey as much as Voldemort did. The pain was intense. His body, fastened to the sticky wall, left him defenceless. He shut his eyes tightly.

The last strike from Nagini sent Harry over the edge and he woke up panting on his bedroom floor. Morning light flooded in as Harry clutched at his neck and stomach where he felt the snake sink her fangs in. There was nothing. Just a dull pain on his forehead and Harry knew it was just another one of his nightmares. He made a note to not bother Hermione with this one and untangled his legs from his sweaty bed sheets.

As nights went on, his dreams were getting more intense.

The sun's rays were welcoming in contrast to the reoccurring struggle he dreamed of most nights. Looking up from the floor, Harry stretched for his round glasses that were in their usual spot on the bedside table. Putting them on, his vision sharpened and he stood up, gathering his sheets in a ball and dumping them at the end of his bed. Rubbing his forehead, Harry walked over to the windowsill where a chestnut owl was perched behind the glass. Secured in a metal clasp around its leg was a copy of the Daily Prophet Harry was expecting. Carefully opening the windows outwards, the bird adjusted its position so not to fall and extended its leg towards him to retrieve the bundle. After claiming the newspaper, Harry rummaged inside Hedwig's cage and placed her bowl of seed and water in reach of the tired, brown owl, much to Hedwig's disapproval.

The Gryffindor missed his life back in the wizarding world. There he felt like he had a real family. There he had purpose. He loved Hogwarts and its grounds; to him the start of every school year was like returning home. These were much darker times to that of when he first began his schooling career but he missed the magic and excitement all the same. Most of all, he missed his friends Ron and Hermione. Over the summer, Harry promised to keep up with Hermione's letters and through their exchange they told each other of their holidays, signing each parchment with a countdown until the beginning of the semester. This year Hermione had travelled to the south of France with her parents much to the envy of Harry. In an attempt to not bore his friends with his regular routine, Harry went into London more than usual, exploring hidden streets and art exhibitions he had seen advertised on community notice boards. Much to the interest of Hermione and Ron's lack of contact with the muggle world, Harry received replies with lots of questions about the happenings of his days. To avoid dampening the mood, Harry chose to keep his dreams to himself, at least for now, deciding to tell his friends about them once they were together in person.

He smiled to himself as he collected the much appreciated bowls from the windowsill. The owl dipped its head in a small bow and flew off across the housing estate. Harry watched it until he could no longer see it beyond the horizon and closed the windows. He refilled the bird seed and washed and replenished Hedwig's water dish from the upstairs bathroom's sink, placing both of them back inside the cage.

"Not long now girl and we will both be free from our cages." Harry whispered encouragingly as he scratched the top of Hedwig's head with his fingers. The snow white owl clucked in delight and lent in to her friend's affection.

Donning a pair of denim jeans and a black shirt, Harry grabbed the newspaper and placed it neatly inside his jacket before slipping it on. For the last few days, he had confined himself to his room to catch up on homework and study which would be followed by tests as soon as students returned to school. Today he felt the need to get out of the house and away from Dudley's erratic attention seeking behaviour. Grabbing his wand from his desk, he tucked it inside a pocket within his jacket and turned back to Hedwig.

"When I come back tonight I'll let you out to stretch your wings." He promised and closed the bedroom door behind him.

O~O~O

Summer in London was always busy. Tourists flooded the parks, shopping centres, bistros, The Tube and cued for hours outside monumental attractions. The raw smells coming from coffee houses and street vendors added to the romance of the city. From a young age, Harry had familiarised himself with detours that avoided the hustle and bustle. The paths were longer but in this late afternoon, he was in no rush and so he strolled around the streets, catching glimpses of pretty, foreign girls and excited children waving from the tops of the red double-decker buses.

In the spirit of English weather, the skies began to darken and Harry soon found himself taking refuge in a small coffee shop inside a subway station. He had escaped the worst of the weather, his jacket only slightly damp. The shop had wide, glass windows that exposed the concrete underground. There were plenty of empty tables to choose from and he sat down, his back turned to the counter and pulled out the Daily Prophet. He had nearly forgotten it whilst wandering around the city. More pages these days were dedicated to Death Eater sightings and worries of the Ministry's collapse. Rita Skeeter was probably the one to thank for most of the fear mongering yet Harry was grateful that people would be more aware of the potential dangers. As he turned the page, his eyes were immediately drawn to two articles whose titles were printed in large, bolded lettering each accompanied with magically moving photographs.

**"AZKABAN'S LATEST RESIDENT" **Harry immediately recognised Lucius Malfoy who sat stationary, his eyes void of any emotion. Even with the striped uniform of the prison and an unshaven face, he retained his elitist demeanour. Nodding in approval of the conviction, Harry darted his eyes down to the article just below the first.

**"FALLEN FROM GRACE: MALFOY'S WIFE AND SON LEAVE THE TRIAL"** The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he crumpled the paper as he gripped it tighter. He saw Draco and his mother, Narcissa, standing side by side tall and proud, their pale skin turning a blinding white whenever a camera flash landed on their fair complexion. Harry couldn't help but remember his nightmares - Snape and Draco surrounded by dead bodies and how he was left defenceless at the mercy of an unforgiving serpent. The Gryffindor had seen visions before, deep within the self-conscious of the Dark Lord. He suspected Malfoy was up to something and whatever it was it was big and he needed Snape.

Harry's thoughts were momentarily distracted by a waitress collecting his mug. Only now did he just realise that he had not touched it and felt a little embarrassed as she looked at the cool beverage and placed it on the tray.

"Can I get you something else?" The girl looked genuinely concerned.

"Oh, no, sorry, thanks…" Harry tripped over his words as he looked up at the dark skinned girl. She was a similar age and her hair was styled in a thick afro.

She laughed politely and looked closer at the newspaper he was holding.

"I could have sworn that I saw those pictures move." The long-legged waitress shook her head, slightly embarrassed.

"That sounds so crazy. They'll be locking me up and throwing away the key next."

"Not as crazy as you might think." Harry replied, meeting her gaze.

Smiling, she turned, skilfully balancing the tray on one hand and headed back to the kitchen. Harry spun around, a question on the end of his lips. But the moment was gone. The kitchen doors swung on their hinges and the waitress walked out of sight. He sighed and looked out the window at a passing train. Harry was about to turn back to his paper when from the corner of his eye he spied an elderly man with a well groomed, white beard staring at him from across the station platform. He wore a lavender coloured robe and matching tubeteika, his arms were folded over his chest and his back erect. Harry jumped up, a wide grin spreading across his face as his brain registered the man as Dumbledore. Throwing a few pounds on the table, Harry bounded out of the coffee house and sprinted to the platform to meet the Hogwarts' headmaster.

O~O~O

For a moment Harry said nothing, standing at the professor's side silently as an express train zoomed by. He exposed his teeth as he no longer could contain his excitement and addressed the headmaster.

"Evening Sir" the young Gryffindor beamed. Dumbledore turned to him and greeted Harry with a warm smile.

"Good evening Harry. I trust that your summer has been rather eventful?"

This year, Harry couldn't deny that he had been more reckless as he had ventured into London with newfound enthusiasm and confidence. Perhaps it was what young men did at his age but Harry genuinely wanted his holidays to be less sombre now that the Dursley's didn't insist he remain at home doing chores.

"I've had word from Miss Granger and Mr Weasley that you've been sorely missed and that your presence would be greatly favoured."

Harry's eyes lit up at the sound of his friends. It always felt strange not having them by his side over the long break. If Dumbledore was proposing to take him back to the wizarding world, Harry was elated.

"But Sir, I haven't any of my things. Hedwig…my trunk…" he began to list his forgotten possessions but was silenced as the bearded wizard held up a blackened hand.

"Already taken care of my boy" his voice sounded reassuring to Harry's queries so the young wizard didn't press further. Dumbledore must have sensed Harry was going to ask him about the condition of his hand because he added:

"It really is a remarkable state of events Harry," he stated matter-of-factly, holding up the unnatural looking limb and rolling his wrist "that one tiny idea can bring the fall of an entire empire. I'll be happy to settle your curiosity but not tonight" the elderly man sounded exhausted, as if he hadn't slept in days.

"Now, grab my arm" his command was firm and Harry opted to avoid the darkened hand and latched onto the headmaster's shoulder.

In a blur, the surroundings contorted and Harry could feel himself move at great speeds in a vacuum of colours and distorted shapes. It was all over in a few seconds and as his feet found ground he had to use Dumbledore as a crutch so not to fall over.

"Most people throw up the first time, you did remarkably well Harry."

Looking around, they were outside in a dark street with identical houses on both sides. Harry had hoped they were going to The Burrow and was disappointed as Dumbledore made his way over to one of the houses on the left hand side of the street. He watched the professor enter the house and waited for some invitation outside of the gate. Everyone's front lawns were immaculately kept and Harry assumed it was one of those well-to-do areas where perhaps Ministry personal lived.

A light turned on inside the house and Harry could hear furniture shifting and broken glass. He grabbed his wand from within his jacket and hurried towards the front door, his heart beating rapidly expecting a confrontation. Upon entering, his head turned puzzled from Dumbledore using the spell Reparo to fix a once shattered chandelier to an unfamiliar wizard wearing what seemed to be blue and white striped pyjamas. Harry had seen far worse attire and was not fazed as the stranger's eyes widened at the sight of the lightning bolt on the Gryffindor's forehead. With everything back in its rightful place, Dumbledore turned to the greying man.

"Introductions are surely in order. Harry, this is Professor Horace Slughorn..."

"Tut, ut, ut Albus!" Slughorn interrupted "I am not a Professor of anything anymore. I know what you're trying to do and it won't work!"

The Hogwarts' former potions teacher expressed annoyance at the bearded headmaster before his eyes softened on Harry. Regaining his composure, Slughorn dismissed Dumbledore's insistence to rehire him as a member of Hogwarts' staff and focused his attention on The-Boy-Who-Lived.

"Mister Potter, it is a pleasure to meet you". Harry gave a polite bow in recognition and shook the wizard's extended hand, pretending to listen to the ritual "you have your mother's eyes" observation.

"Professor?" Harry called out to the headmaster who was seen disappearing into an adjacent room.

"Won't be long Harry, just using the loo. Soon we'll be leaving," he paused "Mister Slughorn will be left alone, unaware of the unique opportunity that will slip through his fingers." He smiled at the wizard who exchanged looks by glaring after the headmaster.

Alone, the tension was thick as the two wizards smiled at each other awkwardly. A vanity table covered in photographs caught Harry's eye and he picked up a group photo where a young Lily Potter stood beside Slughorn who had a full head of hair.

"Your mother was one of my finest students, Mr Potter." The old man reminisced as he looked over his past students with pride. Harry's eyes wandered over the photographs, they all beamed back at Harry. Except one group. Standing erect were several students wearing Slytherin house robes. Despite their high school appearance, Harry recognised a young Narcissa standing between Severus and Lucius. Behind them was Bellatrix and Harry could feel the contempt he held for this deranged witch.

Dumbledore soon reappeared and while the headmaster convinced Slughorn to return, Harry took the opportunity to conceal the Slytherin photo under his clothes. He had questions that needed answering and he knew he couldn't ask here. He would have to wait until he found his friends.

O~O~O

The Weasley's home was full of excited chatter when Harry stepped through the door. The Weasley matriarch embraced the young wizard and disappeared into the kitchen, only to emerge moments later with bowls overflowing with food. Harry shook Mr Weasley's hand and was euphoric when his friends came downstairs to greet him. There was laughter and warm conversations as Ron, Hermione and Harry retreated to a private room to catch up on their holidays. They sat on the floor around a small crate that served as a table.

"Ron?" Hermione's voice trailed as she leant closer to the freckled boy. "Who is she?" she asked, the red head looked up unexpectedly in confusion. Hermione grinned wickedly as she picked up a long, black hair between her thumb and forefinger that was atop of Ron's jacket. She held it up in triumph as Ron tried to justify his innocence.

Snapping his fingers, he groaned as a memory from earlier that day hit him in the face.

"That's not a girl's hair Hermione, it's Snapes'."

The other two looked at him like they had misheard.

Ron sighed. "At the end of last year McGonagall told me that if I ever hoped to be an Auror I needed to boost my grades in potions. Dad pulled a few strings and found me a tutor for over the holidays. I didn't expect to actually study but I had to…because well, it was Snape."

Hermione laughed hysterically but it was Harry that set a different mood.

"Did he tutor you here Ron?" His eyes searching hungrily for answers.

"Nah, it was down at Spinner's End where he lives. Merlin, I'm so glad that today was our last session. Ol' Wormtail was always there, bloody hell he gives me the creeps. Overheard him and Snape today about Malfoy coming for a visit tomorrow night, sure as hell didn't want to be around for that."

"Malfoy?" Harry had startled his friends with the intensity in his voice.

"Yeah, well, Malfoy's mum, erm…"

"Narcissa." Hermione finished, silencing Ron "Harry, are you alright?"

"I think Draco is up to something, something big and he needs Snape's help."

After Harry divulged his nightmares to his friends, he showed them the articles in the Daily Prophet. Hermione listened intently and Ron became more convinced that Malfoy was up to no good. Harry revealed the stolen photograph and placed it on the table in front of his friends.

"See, Snape has known the Blacks and Malfoys since he was at Hogwarts. If Snape is close with them, he is close to You-Know-Who and if he is close to You-Know-Who…"

"He will know his plans exactly!" Ron concluded, beaming at his connections. Harry was pleased that his best friend was following closely and turned to him and they began talking about a plan amongst themselves.

Meanwhile, Hermione was distracted. Picking up the photograph from the table, her eyes were immediately drawn to a girl only about a year older than herself. Straight, long, blonde hair flowed past her shoulders; her skin was fair and eyes ice blue. The girl's posture was immaculate as she stood proudly, chin raised exposing the length of her neck. Hermione couldn't help but admire her beauty and her gaze lingered down from the witch's face to her body. The student, who could be none other than Narcissa, stared silently into Hermione's eyes and the wavy-haired witch looked elsewhere, her face turning a slight shade of pink. Behind Narcissa, Hermione almost didn't recognise her sister Bellatrix. The young Death Eater had her signature raven coloured curls that fell down clumsily, framing her strong facial features. The dark witch was attentive but her eyes showed restlessness. Despite the contrast of light and dark, Hermione noted that both Narcissa and Bellatrix shared the same attractive aristocratic features. Bellatrix, older than her sister, was well developed, her robe barely blanketing the swell of her chest. Hermione attempted to mentally snapshot the image of Bellatrix, wanting to remember the beauty she held before Azkaban left her as an empty and crazed shell.

Hermione looked back at Narcissa, her expression had not changed. There was something about her, a regal elegance that very few girls her age possessed. The young Gryffindor felt her heart sink as the blonde witch's fingers brushed against the hand of Lucius Malfoy, her eyes displaying pleasure at Hermione's disappointment.

"'Mione, you have some right?" Ron's voice broke his friend's train of thought and she looked up at the two boys who seemed excited over something that Hermione had missed.

"I have some of what, Ronald?" she clutched the photograph closer protectively, slipping it into her enchanted handbag.

"Polyjuice potion of course, haven't you been listenin' to a word we said?" The ginger haired boy teased, reaching for her bag to retrieve what he had hoped to find.

"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione snapped, seizing the bag out of reach from his fumbling fingers.

Harry chuckled. He had missed this touch-and-go relationship between his friends and attempted where Ron had failed.

"Hermione, we need the potion if we want to become Snape."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock.

"Harry, you can't impersonate a teacher! The very thought…there's no way you could get away with it!"

"Hermione, it's our only chance to find out what is really going on. Narcissa is arranging a meet at Snape's house tomorrow night. She'll be able to tell us everything."

"Oh, I suppose you're just going to walk in unnoticed?" Hermione was convinced that they were both delusional but the more Harry and Ron explained their plan the more at ease Hermione felt. A yearning in her stomach wanted her to believe that it was possible, possible to meet the blonde witch that had caught her eye in the photograph.

Handing the premade polyjuice potion to Harry, he found the single black hair and sealed it in the vile, shaking it until the consistency was thickened and the bubbles had died down. He passed it back to Hermione who studied the mixture carefully before slipping it into her bag.

"So tomorrow night I'll take the potion…"

"You?" Hermione interjected. "Harry, you can't be the one to take it. You're not legally allowed to apparate yet." She thought quickly "Besides, don't you think you will give yourself away because of…" she trailed off, she didn't want to seem insensitive that Sirius was killed by Narcissa's sister.

"'Mione's right, mate." Ron defended. "We need a cool head going into this if we don't want to be suspected." Hermione exhaled in relief. "I'll go."

The young witch whipped her head around to Ron in disbelief.

"Ronald, you can barely stand being in front of Draco and you want to take on his mother?" She rolled her eyes as she gave a look to Harry. He knew she was right. "I'll go." She confirmed, ignoring Ron's protests.

"There is no time to be playing hero, Ronald. We can do this together."

The trio smiled and hugged, their minds wandering over their unthinkable task. Soon the conversation took a tangent and they began talking about the new school year. Their faces were illuminated by a levitated, smouldering newspaper in the middle of them. The feeling in the pit of Hermione's stomach was more than just nerves she felt for planning to imposter a Hogwarts' teacher. There was something else and she laid a hand gently on her bag where the stolen photograph was kept secret.

O~O~O

The young witch's night had been restless. Long after the household bid each other goodnight, Hermione laid in bed, wide awake at the thought of what tomorrow would bring. Not only would she have to adopt Snape's mannerisms but most importantly, she needed to keep composed so not reveal herself. There were just so many pieces of the puzzle that could easily go astray. Harry had talked privately with her and together they deliberated over important aspects of the plan: timing, dress and conversation topics. There was only enough of the potion to last one hour so she had to act quickly to get the information about Draco that Harry desperately wanted. Ron had found a formal, black robe that belonged to his brother Percy who was similar in height to Snape that would be perfect. Although this somewhat settled Hermione's nerves, she knew better than anyone that in theory, everything goes according to plan. In practice, well, she tried to remain positive.

Her head couldn't bear to ponder over tomorrow's events any longer and wrapping a sheet around herself, Hermione crossed over to the opposite side of the room where her bag was kept. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, she reached for her wand that was kept in her sleeve and summoned the photograph. Within a moment, it shot out of the bottomless carrier and she caught it in mid-air. The moonlight shining in through the window wasn't enough for the Gryffindor to see clearly as she held the framed photo in front of her.

"Lumos" she muttered under her breath and the wand produced a steady beam of light. Hermione supported her wand wielding hand above the picture of the group of Slytherins who in reality now were at least one generation older than herself. Hermione quietly apologised as they shut their eyes, the spell unexpected and too bright. As their vision focused, many of the students glared up at young witch for the disturbance. She dimmed the intensity and ignored them all but one. Narcissa had her hand raised elegantly over her face, the angle of her wrist was poised gently and Hermione for the first time noticed the blonde witch's well-manicured nails. Lowering it slowly, blue eyes softly opened and Hermione's stomach tensed as they pierced into her own. Narcissa stood dignified, not uttering a sound which was fine with the Gryffindor as she wasn't sure what to say anyway. She was content with gazing at the photograph in silence. Even with the Slytherin expressing little diversity in emotion, Hermione was captivated by the student in the picture. It was an attraction that in the back of her mind she knew was against the status quo but she couldn't help the admiration for the aristocratic witch. Narcissa held herself regally, her features were strong in every sense of the word and she reminded Hermione of a woman more than a student. Etiquette had clearly been drilled into her from birth. From experience Hermione knew the blonde haired witch, faced in a confrontation, remained extraordinarily composed, choosing to use grace and fierce quick wit as her weapon of choice.

Hermione immediately felt aware of the difference in their blood status as a young Bellatrix leaned close to Narcissa and lingered at her ear. The dark witch's lips brushed against Narcissa's lobe as she whispered inaudibly. Thick curls cascaded over the blonde's shoulders like water over a fall before the Death Eater erected herself, her lips miming a word that cut deep into the heart of the onlooking witch.

"Mudblood."

* * *

Thank you for reading. Constructive criticism is most welcome :3


	2. Chapter 2

Wow, thank you to everyone who have followed and reviewed so far! I didn't expect anyone to stumble upon this story so soon. Well, it's been a few days so I think this deserves an update. For those looking forward to the rendezvous between Hermione/Bella/Cissy you'll find it here.

* * *

Chapter 2

The three friends spent most of the next afternoon meticulously going over every scenario they could think of that could possibly take place tonight. Harry in particular became extremely authoritarian as the hours ticked by. Twice, Hermione had to remind him that he pushed too much but he insisted they kept at it until he was satisfied with everyone's performance. Because Harry was not yet seventeen, any apparition involving him was monitored closely by the ministry due to higher security measures. Begrudgingly, he obliged to stay at The Burrow on the condition that Hermione take Ron with her. Everyone accepted and Ron felt more at ease knowing he'd be able to protect Hermione with some defensive spells that she had taught him today while duelling.

Evening came quickly. The sun seeped into the horizon, leaving behind streaks of orange and pink across the blackening sky. By the time Hermione and Ron had exited the front door of the Weasley home, the heavens were blanketed in a sea of stars. They looked towards the direction of the destination and could see thick storm clouds billowing.

_How appropriate_. Hermione thought and she took Ron's hand in hers. Not knowing the way, she had to disapparate with him. Mentally she went over the items in her bag that she needed: _potion, robe and shoes_. She nodded to Harry who was standing in the doorway of The Burrow. He felt agitated that he couldn't play a part and waved his friends good luck. Ron gave a nervous thumbs up and Hermione smiled, masking the discomfort she was feeling deep inside her gut. With an audible popping sound, the couple disappeared from sight.

O~O~O

Spinner's End was not at all what Hermione had expected. Rows upon rows of destitute brick houses, capped with chimney tops stood to attention like a crumbling brigade of soldiers weary from battle. Clouds in the sky began to roll over the township creating a menacing appearance, threatening to unleash the rain they burdened. Beneath the Gryffindor's feet leaves danced, caught in the evening breeze. Ron had apparated a few doors down from the potion master's house so Hermione could get ready unnoticed. The tension was mounting as Hermione felt dizzy, the pressure in her temples amplified at the thought of what she was about to do.

_Breathe Hermione. _She thought to herself as she looked over at Ron. Even his freckles had gone a shade or two lighter and he didn't even try to conceal his shaking knees. Hermione settled him with a reassuring look and squeezed his hand. Until they returned home, she needed to stay focused. Exhaling, she faced Ron who was still jumping at the slightest of sounds.

"Which house is his?"

Ron took her hand and led her to a brick house that was identical to all of the others. It was surprising that people knew which one to go to. They all had murky windows with paint peeling from the frames. It was impossible to see anything clearly from outside but the window did give away a faint light coming from what Hermione only assumed to be a living area. They crouched underneath the windowsill and strained their ears to catch any hint of conversations being taken place.

There was nothing. A wave of relief washed over the faces of the two Gryffindors. They had arrived before Narcissa.

"He reads at night." Ron whispered. His finger pointed upwards to indicate Snape spent most of the evenings in the downstairs room they had looked through.

"And Wormtail?" Hermione asked, frightened of the man with the metallic hand.

"He comes and goes. I think you should be ready in case he's here." Ron had adjusted his mindset and appeared ready to take on his former rat. Wormtail was skilled but over the holidays Ron had observed his behaviour and noticed that his hand left him slightly crippled. If he could move faster than Wormtail, he stood a chance at disarming and controlling him while Hermione did what she needed to do.

"Ready 'Mione?"

The young witch nodded in reply. She had been increasingly aware of the time and was anxious that they would miss their opportunity. She motioned for Ron to hasten his pace and gently pushed on his chest for him to stand but instead Ron leant into her, cupping her cheek in his hand and kissed Hermione's lips. Her eyes shot open, stunned by the sudden roar of emotion coming from her friend. Of course she had considered her feelings for Ron over the summer break, they had flirted by owl for weeks, but this was neither the time nor the place to express them. Not knowing what to do she kissed back and pulled away soon after to end the awkward affair. The kiss had filled Ron with adrenaline and he stood at his full height. Grinning down at Hermione, he didn't notice her dumbstruck look, her mouth slightly agape as she crouched under the windowsill. He smiled back at her and strode to the door with a new found confidence. Hermione's head was now even more haywire, this was the last thing she needed at a time like this and she cursed that Ron couldn't be more calculated with his emotions. Her eyes followed the red head who had now stopped outside the door. She held her breath, drawing her wand as he rapped on the wood, the first drops of rain falling down around them.

O~O~O

"Wormtail," a vindictive voice sighed from behind a newspaper "answer the door won't you?"

The small living space was dedicated to walls littered with books stacked high to the ceiling. A fire crackled in the brick alcove, illuminating the room. Garbed in solemn, black attire, Hermione sat in one of the two antique, leather chesterfields. She was terrified and seething all at once; things had not gone according to plan. The Gryffindor trembled slightly in the alien environment, her focus not even on the paper she was holding. Her hands were nearly twice the size and her chestnut waves were replaced with straight, black shoulder length strands. Hermione's mind raced through the events that just happened and what was soon about to follow.

After Ron had knocked on the door, he failed to react to Wormtail's already drawn wand and was disarmed then thrown back into the street. Hermione shuddered as she recalled hearing the bone-chilling 'crack' when his head collided with the puddled road. Hermione acted on instinct and stunned the aggressor before using the imperius curse, bringing him under her spell. It was strange to have a rival completely subject to her will and was horrified that anyone could hold so much power over a person. Looking into the clouded eyes of the stout man, she instructed him to disarm and jinx Snape. He would be locked in his room until Hermione was ready to leave. At least this way, it would create the illusion that Wormtail went rogue, concealing any evidence of the two students' presence. While Wormtail was out of sight, she had hurried over to Ron who was unconscious but, to what Hermione could tell, stable. His ginger hair was pasted to his forehead from the rain and she could feel fluids swelling in the back of his skull. His body had been too heavy to lift on her own and she ran inside and found Wormtail locking one of the upstairs doors. At least he had caught Snape off guard and there seemed to be no signs of struggle. She sent the man outside to fetch Ron and tend to him in one of the spare bedrooms. Hermione dried his clothes the best she could and cleaned his face while Wormtail was sent to retrieve something that would help to cease the growth of the lump. For extra measures, Hermione fetched some ointment from her bag that was used for children who couldn't sleep properly and placed it under Ron's nose. If he had the chance to wake up, Hermione was sure that he'd alert everyone downstairs.

It wasn't until she heard the door click that she used a charm that would alter the intonations in her voice. This was the last use of magic to complete the masquerade; the rest was up to her. Hermione's heart felt like it was going to break through her ribcage. She could hear greetings and a sense of unknown fear overcame her as she realised that Narcissa was not alone. Expensive heeled shoes echoed through the hallway before coming to a stop. The only thing that stood between Hermione and her company was The Prophet. She stalled for a second, taking one last deep breath and folded the newspaper in half swiftly. Three sets of eyes fell on who they all thought to be Severus Snape. Hermione looked up, her heart beat faster as she became captivated by Narcissa. She was no longer the young student in the photograph Hermione had spent hours mesmerised by; Narcissa had matured into a woman. Her fair complexion was flawless; youth had not at all escaped her. Rich burgundy lips contrasted with porcelain skin and her Persian threaded eyebrows were fastidiously well groomed. Her shoulder length hair was secured neatly to the side and Hermione couldn't help but notice the figure-hugging robe she was wearing, accentuating the curves of her breasts and hips. Narcissa had retained her aristocratic magnetism as she stood above Hermione, her pale blue eyes haunting.

Hermione had to control her fear held for the female Death Eater to the left of her sister. Heavy ringlets poured from her scalp down past Bellatrix's shoulders. Her imperial beauty had been tainted by the years she was held prisoner in Azkaban however the dark witch still possessed the haughty good looks of the Black family. Her lips were full and blood red, makeup dyed her eyes. Bellatrix had not forgone her signature attire. She was clad head to toe in various shades of black; her dress hugged her frame and slender arms before moving freely at her hips. A leather corset accented the thinness of her waist and the swell of her bust. Her presence frightened Hermione who had expected Narcissa to come alone.

"Run along Wormtail."

Hermione hissed and with a flick of her wand the door closed in the face of the imperiused wizard. She needed to get into character quickly. The disguised witch caught Bellatrix looking suspiciously at her and Hermione concealed her wand beneath her robes, foolishly forgetting that it was nothing like Snape's. Hermione couldn't afford to fail so early, especially now that the stakes were raised two to one and silently she wished Ron had her back. She stood and took a step forward, greeting the older witches with a chivalric nod.

"Good evening Narcissa, Bellatrix" Hermione tried to mask her surprise of the depth of her own voice. It was slow and steady and she had almost believed that Snape himself was in the room.

"Good evening Severus." It was Narcissa who spoke for them first. Hermione's heart leapt at the sound of the woman's voice. It was soft and feminine laced with an underlying coldness that many pure-bloods favoured to speak with. To be talking with such familiarity drew Hermione closer to the witch. For the first time in her eyes she saw emotion and she lowered her guard as the pure-blood kept her stare. The older woman's chin remained at a constant level, her elitist nature never once faltering as she turned to her sister. Bellatrix had not said a word which worried Hermione. Instead, the Death Eater strolled around the room, looking out the window and picking up small belongings, observing them before putting them back in their place.

A knock at the door broke the short silence and for a second Hermione believed something was about to go horribly wrong. Instead, it was Wormtail carrying a silver platter with a decanter filled with red wine and three crystal glasses. The young witch assumed they were reserved for guests such as the Malfoys and Blacks as nothing much else in Snape's house indicated anything of value.

When the wine was poured and served, Wormtail retreated from the room and closed the door as Hermione ordered. Bellatrix smelled the earthiness of the dark liquid and looked over at Hermione above the crystal, causing the young witch some uneasiness. The fire behind Bellatrix illuminated her silhouette and Hermione couldn't resist admiring her form. She had a deathly attraction that Hermione found both dangerous and alluring.

Narcissa had taken a seat in one of the armchairs, her figure poised as she politely held the glass in her hand.

"Severus," it was Narcissa who spoke again, her words sounding pressed "I know I am forbidden to speak of this but Draco will no longer confide in me."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. She saw the protectiveness in Narcissa's eyes and Hermione had no doubt that she was a mother who loved her child.

"You should be honoured Cissy, as well as Draco!" It was the first time in over half a year that Hermione had heard Bellatrix speak. Her voice remained strong, full of passion and dedication to the Dark Lord. Bellatrix took a long sip of the wine and the liquid soon stained her lips.

Narcissa paid little attention to her sister, her eyes penetrated Hermione's, pleading for answers.

"I understand what the Dark Lord has been training him to do." Hermione spoke carefully, following the script Harry had made her memorise.

"Yes I know Severus, which is why I've sought you from all others."

Bellatrix snorted and rolled her eyes.

"He's just a boy, Severus. You must understand."

Hermione sympathised with the woman. The coldness in her voice was replaced with a hint of desperation and all Hermione wanted was to reach out and comfort her.

"Cissy, we should never have come here. Severus is no help to you. Place all your trust in the Dark Lord." Bellatrix glared at Hermione, her pulse spiked and she avoided the dark witch's eyes.

"I can't help you if you doubt me Bella." Hermione said surprisingly calm. Bellatrix's eyes flared at the sound of her childhood nickname. The few people who dared using it were either very close or very foolish. She glided over to Hermione, circling her before coming to rest her chin upon Hermione's shoulder. Bellatrix looked at her sister from behind Hermione, her darkened lips curled into a smirk as Narcissa chose to look away from the proximity between Bellatrix's mouth and Severus' ear. The hairs on the back of Hermione's neck stood on end as she felt the intoxicating breath from the witch on her neck and momentarily she closed her eyes. Bellatrix could feel the heat radiating off Hermione's skin. She took a silent pleasure in manipulating the reaction and positioned herself closer. Hermione opened her eyes once more. She stared down at Narcissa, trying to ignore the swell of Bellatrix's breasts pressing into her back.

"I don't doubt you Severus." Narcissa's words were firm and Bellatrix stepped away, returning to her glass, drinking deeply. Hermione composed herself and searched carefully for her next line.

"I can help you Narcissa." The blue eyes of the witch shot up in hope. "But I will need to know a few things first…"

"Oh no you don't Cissy!" Both figures turned towards Bellatrix who seemed to have refilled her glass. Her voice had developed into more of an aggressive whisper and again Hermione became frightened. Bellatrix stood behind Narcissa's chair; a protective hand gripped her shoulder and the younger sister could feel the strength of her clutch. If she was in pain she masked it well.

"Your words are empty Severus. I can see what the Dark Lord does not. If you want to assist my family so much," Hermione's eyes widened as Bellatrix smiled wickedly "make the Unbreakable Vow."

Narcissa brushed Bellatrix aside and stood, placing her glass on a side counter and stepped closer towards Hermione. The young witch could feel perspiration on her forehead. She had not been able to ask the questions she needed and was running out of time. Bellatrix had disturbed almost every opportunity. She had to try and regain control.

"What shall I get in return?" Hermione looked from Bellatrix to Narcissa.

Bellatrix pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. She turned to her sister who thought for a second before answering. Bellatrix despised Severus. He was a coward. While she dedicated herself to finding The Dark Lord he had remained safe in Hogwarts, escaping the fate she had faced in Azkaban. Now The Dark Lord had chosen this slippery creature above her to educate her own nephew in the complexities of the dark arts. Severus was nothing more than a traitor. She wanted nothing more than to see her former school mate fall at her hands and beg for death.

A voice broke the silence.

"If you do this for me Severus, I'll give you any one thing you ask of me."

Hermione pondered this for a second. _A debt? _She thought. A pureblood in the wizarding world had powerful connections. _This could be Harry's biggest advantage. _

"So be it." The words were steady as they flowed from Hermione's mouth. Bellatrix cocked an eyebrow in surprise and stepped over to the two, drawing her wand. Impulsively, Hermione went for her own but stopped herself quickly when she realised that she was not under attack. The dark witch's eyes showed distrust and Hermione knew she had been imprudent. She was not sure what this "Unbreakable Vow" was but she had a feeling she'd soon find out.

Narcissa extended her hand just below shoulder level and Hermione reached out, her fingers brushing against the pure-blood's hand. It was so soft and she wished she could have lingered but the blonde witch had already grabbed her firmly by the wrist and Hermione followed her lead.

Bellatrix tapped their hands once and immediately a chain of liquid fire spiralled from her wand like a serpent and coiled itself around the pair. Hermione had never seen such magic and was relieved when the fire was cool to the touch.

Bellatrix had only one request on the end of her tongue. She had witnessed Narcissa in a state of distraught over the last few months which shredded her heart. Even her usual attempts of comfort could not bring her beloved sister any sense of security. If the deed was not done, Draco would be at the mercy of the Dark Lord. She cared for her blood too deeply. The purest blood should never be spilt and Snape was only a half-blood. He could carry the burden or die trying.

'If Draco Malfoy should fail, will you Severus Snape, carry out the deed that the Dark Lord has ordered him yourself?"

Hermione hesitated and as she stared into Narcissa's eyes, the words slipped from her mouth.

"I will."

"And will you, Narcissa Malfoy Black, promise to give any one thing that Severus Snape desires if he completes the task?"

"I will."

The bond was sealed, the liquid fire absorbed into their skin and the two released their grip. Narcissa exhaled, as if the whole weight of the world was lifted from her shoulders. She smiled, turning to Hermione.

"Thank you, Severus."

Her eyes were glistening with euphoria and Hermione's heart was beating so loud she thought that Narcissa would be able to hear it. She had never seen the blonde so naturally calm, far different to the forced composure she usually acquainted her with. Narcissa turned to Bellatrix behind her and shared a secret smile away from Severus. The dark witch did not return her sister's pleasure. She dismissed the younger Black and paced forward until Narcissa was behind her. She had not taken her eyes off the wizard. She registered the lust she saw in his eyes and glanced back at Narcissa who had retreated to the warmth of the fire, unaware of Bellatrix's realisations.

"You can look Severus," Bellatrix paced towards Hermione, her movements were slow and controlled, looking at the wizard through heavy lids. She spoke warningly so her sister wouldn't hear "but she's out of your league." Her wand traced from Hermione's naval and tapped her heart. The disguised witch swallowed not daring to move.

"You're playing a dangerous game." Her breath was hot and had blended with the earthiness of the wine. "Think carefully before asking anything from my sister. That's of course if you manage to keep your allegiance." Her last sentence was spat and Hermione could detect the disgust in her voice. Her stomach tightened and suddenly the young witch felt more uncomfortable.

It was Bellatrix that had first noticed the change in appearance. The hair of Severus had lightened and she observed as the man's nose transformed completely before her eyes. Hermione sensed the familiar sickening feeling in her gut as she knew that the potion's effects were wearing off. In the midst of her body returning to its original proportions, Hermione tried to find her wand as the borrowed robe dwarfed her frame. Bellatrix was swift and unforgiving. She threw herself at the transforming figure, pinning Hermione against the closest surface. Books fell around them as she dug her wand into the young witch's neck. They were nose to nose. Her eyes widened in surprise as she looked at Hermione, her hand tightly restraining her and she screeched with laughter.

"Cissy!" Bellatrix squealed with delight before turning back to Hermione. "You're Potter's mudblood friend aren't you?" tipping her head back and crying out again.

"Potty? Where are you Potty? Come out!" Bellatrix sang, the tip of her wand cut into Hermione's neck and she looked around the room expectantly.

Narcissa had drawn her wand and was making her way to her sister's side before she stopped. Her celeste eyes fell on Hermione who was struggling under Bellatrix's strength. Her head felt light as she pieced together what had just happened. She looked from Hermione to her own hands as she made the connection and her whole world crashed around her. Her son was in even more danger and she had just bound herself to someone, a mudblood out of all people, who couldn't possibly save him. The fury and frustration almost consumed Narcissa as she looked on at the bodies struggling against each other.

"Are you alone, Mudblood?" A devilish smile crept upon Bellatrix's lips and she pressed herself closer to the young witch. "Who do you think you are? Trying to get the best of us? I had my suspicions about you ever since I saw that wand." She reached up Hermione's robe and threw the wand to Narcissa who resisted not snapping it in half. Bellatrix's words were whispers against her ear and she licked at Hermione's neck, the contact searing the young witch's skin and she cried in agony.

"Just something to remember me by Muddy." The raven haired witch hushed. She looked desirously at the Gryffindor up and down, smiling as she watched Hermione's face whiten with fear "It's too bad your blood is dirty."

"CRUCIO!"

Bellatrix laughed as her spell contacted with Hermione and she collapsed at the feet of the crazed witch. The pain was intense like knives repeatedly digging into her skin as her high pitch scream echoed throughout the house. Her limbs spasmed out of control and her head filled with images she had thought she had buried from her past. Eyes rolled into the back of her head and she could feel the bile in her throat.

"Enough Bella!"

It was Narcissa who stopped the torture and Bellatrix fell away disappointed by the disruption. Through tears, Hermione could see the cold face of Narcissa looking down on her. Her lips were thin and her eyes furious. Her voice was fierce as she spoke in a haunting whisper.

"You can't kill her." She threw the wand back at the young witch. "We are bound to each other until Draco succeeds!"

She turned to Hermione, her eyes ablaze. "Have you any idea what you've done? Do you know what this means?" Her voice was low and she resisted the hot, angry tears that pooled in her eyes. "Foolish little Mudblood!" Her palm made contact with Hermione's cheek bone and she collected her coat before storming out of the room. Hermione could feel the handprint embedded on her flesh. It stung. Her whole body ached.

She looked up and flinched when she noticed that she was alone with Bellatrix LeStrange. The older witch was leaning against the bookcase with one hand, her body arching over Hermione's.

"You're lucky that you tied yourself to my little sister," Bellatrix whispered, tracing the reddened mark along Hermione's face and she shuddered at the touch "otherwise you'd be dead." She pat the young witch patronizingly on the head. "You'll come back to me soon Mudblood." She laughed again before walking out of the house after Narcissa.

* * *

Hehe, not sorry about the little Ron/Hermione scene but sometimes we just got to live with a bit of hetero loving ;)


	3. Chapter 3

Yay! I have one week of holidays so in the break I'll be able to dedicate some more time to writing between politics essays.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! I really appreciate the feedback. **Miztickow** did make a valid observation about the vows but you shall see that all in due time that little things will piece together and become clear. I spent some time discussing plans for the story with my girlfriend and now have a better direction for where this will all lead. Don't worry, it won't parallel the movie this closely for much longer and soon will likely go on a tangent once the school year starts.

This chapter is kind of that awkward space where not a great deal happens but you'll later see that many events in future chapters were seeded from here.

* * *

Chapter Three

It was nearly one o'clock in the morning before Ron and Hermione had made it back to The Burrow. The evening's events had exhausted Hermione; she couldn't bring herself to leave straightaway after the sisters disapparated into the night. She had cried for at least an hour. The cruciatus curse had left her feeling vulnerable and she had thrown up twice on herself as her body reacted to the aftershock-like systems from the pain it had endured. Her neck throbbed where Bellatrix touched her and she reached into her bag to retrieve something that would numb the pain. It was temporary but Hermione knew she could tend to her wounds later. She did not want to be in this house any longer. After cleaning herself and changing back into her clothes she returned the room to how she had found it before Bellatrix and Narcissa had arrived. _Narcissa_. The name pulled the heartstrings in Hermione's chest. She remembered the look of revulsion that came over the blonde witch when she realised she had been deceived. A fresh stream of tears stung Hermione's face where the older witch had slapped her as she recollected Narcissa's last words. The guilt ate at her and she wanted to scream. She had actually enjoyed talking to her and now Narcissa hated her with all her being. Her stomach cramped the more she thought of the blue eyed witch. She felt so alone and confused.

Harry had heard the distinct 'pop' of apparition and ran outside, throwing his arms over his two friends. He had been so worried about them both. They were three hours later than the time they had agreed to return and the impatient wizard hurried them inside and prepared some tea. They all sat around the table sipping their hot drinks as Harry fired question after question. Ron looked a mess. The back of his head had taken the blow of the fall and he had purple rings around his eyes from a mix of the hex and the concussion. He felt humiliated in front of Hermione and was relieved that she had saved him the embarrassment of leaving out the part of the evening where he had kissed her.

That wasn't the only part of the story that Hermione had failed to mention. She censored the finer details of the discussion between herself and the two sisters. In fact, entire events were fabricated. She kept secret the unbreakable vow and the conflict she had with the duo. Her face burned whenever she mentioned Narcissa's name and she suppressed tears as she remembered what Bellatrix had done to her. She wasn't sure why she couldn't tell Harry the truth but she knew he'd be irrationally angry and disappointed. _There is no harm in keeping some things hidden_. She thought subconsciously. After all, he was only interested in what Draco's connection was between Snape and Voldemort.

"You were right Harry. Draco is training with Snape and You-Know-Who. He's learning to kill." Hermione cried as her voice broke "Harry, he's practicing on Muggles!"

Harry winced at the thought as he remembered Sirius being taken from him in an instant.

"Bellatrix did mention something else." Hermione recollected her thoughts into chronological order and the two others silently urged her to remember. "She seemed to question Snape's loyalties to You-Know-Who. I think she doubts where his allegiance lies."

"Hermione," she could already see that Harry was frustrated "Snape is against us. You said so yourself that he's been with You-Know-Who teaching Malfoy the dark arts. You can't possibly think he's on our side."

"Bellatrix is bonkers Hermione." Intervened Ron. "Geez, she's freaky I'll give you that but you can hardly take what she says seriously. Dad says that all that time in Azkaban did her head in." He spun his index finger in a circle near his temple to demonstrate.

"And before you left what did you do about him?" Harry was eager to get back onto the discussion of Snape.

"I told you, I couldn't leave him locked away and Wormtail cursed!"

Harry scowled, the contempt he held for Snape ran too deep. Now that he knew the teacher was betraying everyone at Hogwarts Harry wouldn't have hesitated to leave the traitor to rot in his delirium.

"I'm certain he doesn't suspect anything. First thing I did was grab Ron and disapparated him somewhere safe before returning to Spinner's End. The last thing I told Wormtail to do was undo the jinx he had put on Snape and forget that we had ever been there."

Harry still didn't approve of Hermione letting Snape go that easily. However, it never failed to amaze him that she could always find a solution to some of the most difficult situations.

"So what are we going to do now?" Ron asked openly. He ran a hand through his hair and he looked up as if in pain. His head was throbbing in agony and Hermione walked over and sat beside her friend to do what she could to ease the swelling. Ron put a hand on her knee in thanks to which Hermione flinched. The hand remained and she tried to ignore it. Tonight was already too much without Ron's physical advancements.

"We can't do anything more until we see Dumbledore again. He'll know what to do."

Excusing herself, Hermione went upstairs to shower, leaving the boys to continue their conversation. She had, had enough of company and needed to be left alone.

O~O~O

The water was refreshing as it washed away the dirt and grime from Hermione's body down the drain. The steam relaxed her aching muscles and now she could properly inspect the damage. She had been fortunate that there were no open wounds to tend to. There was a little bruising on her back and wrist where Bellatrix forced her into the bookcase but besides minor swelling, Hermione considered herself lucky that she had escaped at all.

Stepping out of the shower, she wiped the bathroom mirror clear with her hand and inspected her face. The redness had faded but Hermione could still feel the pain left behind by the older witch. She touched her cheek and slid her hand to her neck, examining it closely for any abrasions. The spot where Bellatrix had burned her with her tongue no longer ached and Hermione was satisfied that her mind, in the fear of the moment, had fabricated the pain.

_What had Bellatrix meant by I'd come back to her? _The last thing Hermione wanted was to be anywhere near the crazed Death Eater.

Looking at herself in the eyes, she spoke a mantra of affirmations to focus her thoughts.

"You are Hermione Jean Granger. You are a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You are alive. You are safe. You did everything you possibly could tonight. You are safe. There was nothing more you could have done. You are alive. You will get through this. You are strong. You are alive…"

When she had finished repeating her words over again she relaxed. Today had shattered her security and drained her energy. She needed sleep. There were so many things she had to research but first she had to care for her state of mind. She'd feel better after a nights rest. Hermione slipped her pyjamas on and made her way to her room after saying goodnight to Harry and Ron. They were both still heavily engaged in their conversations and theories. It took every ounce of Hermione's strength to climb upstairs and carry herself into bed. She welcomed the soft mattress and blanketed herself. She thought of the Unbreakable Vow she took with Narcissa and what it meant. Had she done more harm than good? Her mind didn't wander far as she soon slipped into a deep, dreamless slumber.

O~O~O

"Bella," The voice was hoarse with emotion. "I don't know how much more I can take."

"Hush pet" her sister cooed. A slender hand found Narcissa's shoulders and held her close. "You cannot dwell on the past. Continue on the path the Dark Lord has betrothed us with." Bellatrix rested her head against Narcissa's quivering skin and gently kissed the underside of her jaw.

The bedroom they were sitting in was in ruins. Heavy curtains were ripped from their rings and floorboards upheaved and splintered. The Manor, once a home, was now a cage that incarcerated the dark secrets of the Malfoy Family, shadowing them away from onlookers. Narcissa and Lucius had grown apart in the last year. His failures had brought unwanted attention from the rest of the wizarding world and placed their son in the front line of what soon would be a war to end all wars. The patrician witch had welcomed the reprieve from her husband and whilst he was in the custody of the dementors she occupied herself with lavish dinner parties and pleasurable company. But tonight she was shaken.

"Severus was my last hope" she whispered softly as she massaged Bellatrix's scalp with finely manicured nails. Her eyes were staring straight ahead at nothing in particular. Her usual porcelain skin was tarnished with rosy blotches and tears had tracked her cheeks. Even with so much vulnerability consuming her sister, Bellatrix had to commend the strength with which Narcissa held herself.

"Are you sure there's no other way?" the blonde witch asked, turning to the eldest Black.

Their eyes met. Bellatrix waved a hand and slowly the room around them returned to its original magnificence. Moments earlier, she had sat on the bed as she encouraged the power that drove the younger witch to destroy her own boudoir. Narcissa had cast blue and red jets around the room to vent her frustration. Never had she been so furious. Every time she looked down at her hands it was a sickly reminder of the mudblood who she was now tied to.

"Only if Draco can fulfil the Dark Lord's requests will the vow be severed entirely." The dark witch dug her nails into the soft flesh of Narcissa's arm, leaving behind bruised crescent indentations. "Otherwise, your life is owed to the mudblood."

Narcissa leant into the pain as if would atone for her mistakes.

"And if she doesn't succeed?" she winced as she looked down at Bellatrix's nails piercing through layers of skin, digging deeper.

Two fingers forced the younger to lift her chin as if to remind her of the proud heritage they were raised from.

"Then she dies." The words sang softly throughout the room. "It's better that she does Cissy. One less mudblood infesting this planet." She wet her lips as she felt the blonde's pulse heighten.

"You'll be set free from this vow if she fails," her voice was low and devious, longing to once again see the chaos erupt from those celeste eyes "but the Dark Lord will not spare Draco if he too can't deliver."

Narcissa pulled away so that the raven sadist would not puncture her skin. Pseudo-pouting, Bellatrix released her hold over the younger Black.

Narcissa stood up from the four poster bed they had made themselves comfortable on. Her back was turned to Bellatrix. Icy eyes were raised to the ceiling, staring at the chandelier that reflected the moonlight like a disco ball. She took a minute to compose herself, supressing the hatred and fear in her heart. She looked over her shoulder at the raven haired witch who held out a hand. Narcissa rejected it. She returned her gaze to the chandelier.

"You can't possibly understand Bella." Her voice was distant and cold, brushing a hand over where the older witch had left marks on her skin.

Bellatrix didn't inherit the patience her sister had. This evening was the first time she had seen any glimpse of the woman she had remembered, an elitist who didn't have to carry the weight of the world with every second that passed. The Dark Lord burdened her sister for the mistakes her pathetic husband made and after months of effort to console Narcissa she had failed where Hermione had succeeded and all it took was one little vow. Bellatrix rose and grabbed Narcissa's wrist, forcing her to turn and look at her.

"You're not yourself Cissy!" Her voice was strong and she shook her younger sister.

Narcissa tried to push Bellatrix away but the older witch kept her vice-like grip around her sister's wrist. With her free hand, Narcissa reached into her dress pocket for her wand and fired a spell at Bellatrix, sending her flying back onto the bed. Curls were in a tangled mess and blood dripped from her mouth where a tooth had penetrated her lower lip. She touched it delicately, observing the dark liquid on her fingertips before cocking an eyebrow at Narcissa as if it was a game. She was swift to retrieve her own wand and the blonde shielded herself from an oncoming jinx. Bellatrix jumped up from the mattress and zigzagged towards Narcissa, firing spells offensively. Narcissa held her defence and kept Bellatrix at bay. She had learned from a young age that the dark witch had a unique talent for duelling and it was only a matter of time before she would lose yet again.

"Crucio!" Bellatrix's eyes widened as she quickly counteracted her sister's spell.

"I know you like it rough," She grinned roguishly and turned on her toes as she delivered the next blow that sent Narcissa to her knees "but you're not playing fair Cissy." The blue eyed witch clutched her chest as all oxygen escaped her lungs. Bellatrix released the hold she had over her sister with a simple flick of her wand and rolled her eyes as the blonde greedily inhaled.

"You have no idea what it's like Bella. To be linked with mudblood scum. You know as well as I do that Draco cannot do what the Dark Lord has asked of him. If I had any doubt I wouldn't have gone to that hole dragging our family's name through the filth of that neighbourhood! I wouldn't have crawled on my hands and knees begging to Severus like some pathetic lapdog!" Her voice escalated and Bellatrix took thrill in the heat of the moment. Narcissa lifted herself and straightened her spine. She stood so close to Bellatrix that her lips almost brushed against her cheek as she spoke. The younger was slightly taller than her sister, she knew how to empower herself against the insanity of the Death Eater.

"She has to succeed Bella," She pressed her forehead against the eldest and caressed Bellatrix's jawline with the gentle touch of her thumb "for Draco's sake."

Bellatrix caught her hand in her own and watched Narcissa from under heavy lids. She hated the thought that a mudblood could stimulate so much emotion from her sister.

"I'll see to it."

The blonde wrapped her arms around the dark witch's neck in support and allowed herself to be carried back to the bed. A gentle hand brushed the hair out of Narcissa's face as she lay down in the emerald silk sheets. Bellatrix lay beside her, caressing the welts she left on pure flesh.

"I will kill the mudblood." She promised.

Narcissa opened her eyes to the mess of curls in her face and gave an approving smile.

O~O~O

Hermione awoke late. The sun in the sky indicated it was almost noon and the house was alive to hustle and bustle. From her room she could hear Molly and Ginny arguing over something in the kitchen and Arthur clearly was experimenting with some kind of muggle motor in the back yard. Every so-often he whooped with joy only to curse the mechanical device when the rotating fan belts seized up. She lay still in bed for a moment, allowing the time to pass by. Summer holidays were only a few days away from finishing and Hermione snuggled back into the bed covers to relish her last moments of freedom before school recommenced. Although she had enjoyed the time with her parents exploring France's countryside and broadening her palette with rich foods, Hermione longed to be enveloped within the secure walls of Hogwarts. The castle itself was her haven of knowledge with extensive libraries and unexplored corridors filled with historic legends. She had always treasured the thought that witches and wizards from around the world sought Hogwarts as their vault to safeguard precious commodities and secrets.

From her bed she summoned the Slytherin photograph hidden in her bag which landed on the bed with a soft thud. Plumping her pillows and positioning them comfortably behind her, Hermione sat up and held the photo in her hands. She was greeted with a grumble from most of the students who were unsatisfied with Gryffindor's frequent visits. Scanning over the faces, her eyes came to rest where they always did in the bottom right hand side where a younger Narcissa stood. Unlike the others, she had remained silent her eyes cold.

"Do you know who I am?" Hermione asked, her voice giving away the nervousness she felt.

The blonde witch met the student's stare and searched her face. Lucius sidestepped closer to his future wife and after another minute she politely shook her head.

Hermione felt a wave of relief wash over her. At least this Narcissa did not know her like the one she had met last night. She was fine with the thought that the blonde knew she was muggle born. It was enough that she could look upon the attractive features of the aristocratic witch as long as she never had to relive Narcissa's disappointment.

She remained in bed looking at the photograph, her eyes darting between the two Black sisters. A sickly feeling came over her as her gaze fell upon her torturer. Although beautiful, Hermione had to look away as she recalled Bellatrix's carefree will to callously afflict pain. Comparable to the night before, the Death Eater placed a defensive hand on Narcissa's waist. Unlike her sister, she was more aware of the minor details the Gryffindor naively exposed. The look in the dark witch's eyes did not yet display cruelty but something far more perverted. Hermione recognised it as the same look when Harry saw Ginny with her boyfriend. She looked closer at the eldest Black and yes, indeed it was. _Jealousy. _

"Mornin' 'Mione."

Hermione cried out in surprise and looked up. She was so captivated by the photograph that she did not hear the ginger haired boy enter the room.

"Oh, good morning Ron," her face reddened as she overturned the photograph and she coolly tried to hide her blushing cheeks with her hands "sorry, you startled me."

"I did knock."

"Yes of course. How're you feeling?"

"I'm 'right now," Ron sat down on the bed, bouncing the mattress under his weight "head's a little sore but you did a good job of fixing it last night… thank you."

"It's no big deal Ron. I've grown used to you knocking yourself around." Hermione laughed to defuse the tension that had been building in the room since Ron had entered. She clutched the photograph tightly in her hands and brought it closer to her body so she could conceal it under the covers. The young wizard reached out, noticing the lustre of the frame and Hermione hesitated before handing over the picture. Ron scoffed at the Slytherins and for a moment Hermione felt defensive and went to retrieve it.

"It's 'right 'Mione. She can't get you here."

_I kind of wish she could. _

He placed the photograph to one side and hugged her longer than Hermione would have liked. He smelt of peppermint toothpaste and…_ aftershave?_ As she pulled away he lingered by her face as if expecting a repeat of yesterday. His eyes closed slowly and she turned her head. She didn't quite know how she felt about Ron beyond friendship any longer. Her heart didn't beat in her chest like it did when Narcissa had entered the room at Spinner's End. With Ron, it was as if her mind wanted to believe something imaginary her heart could not simply feel.

"Uh, Ron," his eyes opened to his name and she saw the hurt spill across his face "no, no it's not that. The door…" She indicated to the open door and was thankful for the scapegoat. _At least for the meantime we could try and take it slow _she thought. She didn't want to rush into a relationship with one of her closest friends especially when she was so unsure about herself.

"Don't hassle yourself," stopping Ron as he got up "I should get dressed. I'll meet you downstairs."

Ron shuffled awkwardly and brushed off the rejection acting far too casual. "Yeah, Mum said to come and wake you. We're going to Diagon Alley today. She wants to show you and Harry Fred and George's shop."

He closed the door behind him and Hermione was finally left alone. She placed the photograph back in her bag and gathered some clothes, pushing aside the conflicting feelings to the back of her mind.

O~O~O

The suburb had changed dramatically since the Death Eaters had raped Diagon Alley from its former splendour. Stores were boarded and their contents looted of anything that was seen as valuable. Streets no longer flourished with colour and instead were washed over with a drab omen feel that encouraged men not to walk alone and mothers to carry their children closely.

At a fork in the road, the Weasley brother's joke store looked out of place with its bright lights and welcoming atmosphere. Inside, people of all ages were exploring the different floors of the shop that was covered floor to ceiling in magical novelties. Hermione had a great time testing unique thingamajigs and wondered how many students this year at Hogwarts would get detentions for deploying some of the more extreme practical jokes within the grounds. She shared her thoughts with her friends and they laughed at the idea of teachers floating in the air from drinking 'Bubbled Pumpkin Juice'.

Looking around, she saw Ginny at a tiered flower-shaped stand overflowing with pink mist. As she drew closer she realised what the youngest Weasley was eyeing and couldn't help but giggle when Ginny looked away, clearly embarrassed.

"Oh, I would never buy one." The red head said hastily, returning the love potion to the basket.

Hermione raised an eyebrow and smiled sceptically. Harry and Ron soon joined them and Ginny left, not wanting to hear her brother's taunts. Hermione elbowed Ron in the ribs as he snickered after his sister and continued to look around the room. As she did, she felt a discomfort in her neck and clasped at the pain. It was only dull but it throbbed slightly and she convinced herself she had only pulled a minor muscle. As she turned, massaging the spot on her neck, something from the window caught her eye and she pulled both boys by their shirts over to confirm what she saw, pointing to two figures that were walking away, keeping to the sides of the street.

"Is that…?"

"Malfoy." Harry finished, anger lacing his voice. Hermione double checked. She hadn't even registered Draco. It was the blonde woman with her hair secured in a neat bun that had drawn her attention. The cobbled path didn't prove to be much of a challenge for her fitted high heels and she wore a modest, black pencil skirt that showed off the length of her legs. Hermione's heart hammered in her chest. She was so nervous that Narcissa would turn around and see her that she hid behind Ron who misinterpreted the gesture and shielded her with an arm around her shoulders.

"Come on, let's follow him." Harry said, stepping around people hurriedly to the exit.

Hermione hesitated to follow but Ron gently pushed her along and soon the trio was outside and walking towards the side street the Malfoy duo had disappeared around. They were quick to catch up and slowed their pace so their footsteps wouldn't alarm the pair in front of them. Hermione looked around at the surroundings. The wide streets of Diagon Alley had narrowed into twisted lanes. Deranged wizards mumbled in darkened corners and cobwebs lined the tops of archways. Hermione gasped as she recognised the area as Knockturn Alley. Harry turned to her, his finger pressed to his lips and pointed to a dimly lit shop with a sign "Borgin & Burke". Draco was last to enter the sinister looking store. From where Hermione was standing she could see Narcissa through half drawn curtains. She began to introduce a group of Death Eaters to Draco but as she turned to acknowledge the closest one her eyes caught a glimpse of coloured clothing, so distinct amongst the grey surroundings. Her movements were calculated and she stood as she always did in the presence of company, superior and reserved. Without drawing attention to who was beyond the window, Narcissa met the brown eyes of the young witch and shut the curtains sharply.


	4. Chapter 4

I quite enjoyed writing this chapter. Diverting from the original story certainly gives one more freedom.

This shall be my last update until I finish my essay. Gahh, why is it so simple to write 4000w for this story but it has taken over week to write 500w (out of 1500w) for an argument on Citizens Initiated Referenda? (Switzerland you have a beautiful democratic system!)

Anyway, enough about that xD

Once again, thank you to everyone who has stayed with the story so far! Please take the time to review, it's always nice to know what you think. I certainly into account suggestions about how to improve the personality of characters/pairings/story-in-general. Your comments so far have all been a pleasure to read :3 And of course, thanks to all who have fav-ed and followed. It makes my day!

Happy Wednesday! Enjoy the rest of your week!

* * *

Chapter Four

The Advance Potions classroom quickly emptied as students were dismissed from the dungeons. Hermione loitered at the back of the room, leaning against the impenetrable stone walls that accentuated the medieval interior. Clasped in her hands was a thick hardcover book. She waited until everyone had left before approaching the Professor whose back was turned to her, waving goodbye to his pupils.

Last night after ceremonious welcomes and feasts, Hermione had retreated to the library and borrowed any script she could find that mentioned the Unbreakable Vow. It had almost been a breath of fresh air when she entered the deserted floor. She allowed herself the guilty pleasure of brushing her fingers along a myriad of spines as she was reunited with shelves overflowing with knowledge. The sight of Hermione with an armful of books on the first day of term hardly fazed her peers. The wavy haired witch had stayed awake late into the night searching for answers. Her eyes hungrily perused over beautifully handwritten words before discarding them in frustration. Parchment and encyclopaedias littered her single bed and as dawn slowly substituted the dusk her eyes fell upon a torn Prophet article wedged inside of one of the old Ministry Public Records. Carefully she removed the fragile strip; the edges crumbled at her touch as she examined it closely. The font was partially dissolved in the sepia toned paper but the photograph was as clear as the day it had been printed. Eyes scanned over a familiar looking man, his face was round like his stomach and his hair resembled thick bundles of straw. He was situated centrally behind a wizard and a centaur with his wand positioned above their linked hands. Hermione immediately recognised the distinct chain of fire looped around their wrists and hurriedly reached for her bag and retrieved the Slytherin photograph, noting the comparison at once.

"Professor?" The young witch paced forward to the teacher's desk. Atop were three caldrons filled with various aromatic liquids that they had to identify at the start of the lesson. She remembered clearly as she lifted the lid of the left-hand caldron her senses were flooded with a mix of lavender, old parchment and peppermint candy. The aromatics spilling from the Amortentia concoction had overwhelmed her mind as it raced to associate a person with the scents.

"Miss Granger," Professor Slughorn turned to the student who stood behind his desk "what can I do for you child?"

Hermione took a deep breath and gently placed the book in view of the balding potions master.

"Sir, I was doing some light reading last night and I was wondering if you could help me to understand a particular type of magic."

"Of course, of course, ask away." Slughorn chuckled at the size of the book which Hermione associated as _light _reading. As she turned to the page where the Prophet clipping was secured a wave of nostalgia washed over the teacher and he took a step closer to examine the paper.

"This is you isn't it Sir?"

He nodded in response, his lip curling at an almost forgotten memory.

"I've never seen anything like it," she lied, ignoring the pain in her neck that had not subsided from days ago. "I found a few sources but nothing that really elaborated on…"

"The Unbreakable Vow." Slughorn concluded. "Where did you find this?"

"It was in this Ministry Public Records." Closing the cover to show the golden lettering embedded into the crimson coloured leather. "I'm interested in the inner workings of the Ministry." She added quickly.

"I'd very much like to have it. You see, this was a historic moment in my life Miss Granger and even the wizarding world itself." He boasted. "Here I am bonding the agreement between the Ministry and the Centaurs. It is because of this enduring vow that there is peace between our races. They promised to cease conflict in exchange for the preservation of their forests."

"Oh, of course Professor." Delicately, Hermione handed over the article, hoping that he would continue.

"The Unbreakable Vow, Miss Granger, is extremely dangerous. I would hope that someone like you would never take part in such an arrangement."

Hermione swallowed audibly, hanging onto the teacher's every word.

"You see, Miss Granger, when a person makes the Unbreakable Vow they are bound to the other until their part of the oath is fulfilled. If unsuccessful, in exchange for your failure you give your life. Essentially, you die if the bonds are broken prematurely."

Hermione had to steady herself as the information sunk in.

"But this is all very advanced. You best run along to your next class Miss Granger."

"Professor!" Slughorn jumped in surprise at the volume of the young witch's voice. Her palms were clammy and her throat felt as if it was constricted. "Professor," she began again, her tone adjusted to a normal frequency "please. I'm curious. I have just but one more question."

The portly man was taken aback but he gave her the grace and allowed for her to continue.

"Sir, what if a wizard made the Unbreakable Vow under an alias? Say, they weren't who the other person thought they were and they, under a false name, were instructed to do something but it wasn't their name…"

"Miss Granger I believe I understand what you're trying to say and the answer is this: it is not the name of the wizard who is making the vow that is important but their soul. When the union is made the souls become interconnected in a constant conflict, neither resting until the other fails or both succeed. This is why a person's life is in danger when they take part and why very few wizards actually do." He tucked his new possession in his breast pocket and eyed the paling witch questionably.

Hermione felt sick. She had never felt so ill in her entire life. She had the audacity to carelessly tie herself to the matriarch of one of the most powerful pureblood families in Britain without considering the consequences and for what? To put her life at risk for the sake of confirming one of Harry's nightmares. Her chest rose and fell sharply. The discomfort in her neck worsened and she clutched at the pain.

"Are you alright Miss Granger?"

"Yes, thank you Professor. It's just a cramp from being hunched over my books all night. I really must go to my next class. Thank you again."

"Thank you Miss Granger. I'm sure to invite you to tea sometime!" He called out to her as Hermione ran out the dungeons to the girl's bathroom.

O~O~O

Hermione had locked herself in one of the cubicles for most of the morning. Despite the best efforts of some students who were genuinely concerned for her she refused to come out. Her body was hunched over the porcelain bowl, hugging the rim. Her skin was prickling, as if ants were marching under the surface and burrowing deep within her chest, involuntary jerking and shivering as she replayed Slughorn's words. Sweat drenched her uniform which clung to her skin and she had loosened her tie and buttons that restricted her breathing. The fear that consumed Hermione was unbearable. She felt childish as she retched, tears forever flowing down her cheeks. Her neck was searing forcing her pupils to contract until they were only tiny black pinpricks against bloodshot eyes, blinding her vision.

She was terrified at the penalties of her foolishness. Not only did she not know how to contact Narcissa, she was oblivious as to what exactly was her role in the vow. Bellatrix had not specified what Draco was required to do for Voldemort and she was more likely to fail a subject than to discuss politics with him.

Just outside of the cubical stood a fair-haired girl wearing nothing on her feet but knee high rainbow, striped socks. The naturalist had been listening silently to Hermione on the other side of the door for some time, her sympathetic expression easily confused for absentmindedness. Crouching on all fours, ignoring the objections and wrinkling of noses, Luna crawled under the gap between the door and the floor before sitting on her knees behind Hermione. Placing a friendly hand on her back she spoke gently as Hermione heaved into the toilet bowl.

"You know, when I was very little, wrackspurts used to buzz in my ear in the morning and wake me up."

Hermione turned weakly to meet the protuberant eyes of Luna Lovegood, confused as to why she was here with her talking about invisible creatures.

"Every time they did I would forget my dream from the night before. It was all rather peculiar. It wasn't until I was having a pumpkin juice with my neighbour, who was discussing a nightmare involving an erumpent, that I realised that I have never experienced a bad dream myself. The wrackspurts only ever clouded my thoughts when my nights were dark, making my day bright." She flashed a smile, her messy blonde hair creating the illusion that her face was far smaller than it actually was.

Hermione cocked her head as if she had misheard everything Luna had just said. Her head was muddled but remarkably, the out of the blue conversation took her mind off her stomach and she felt a little better as she continued to listen to Luna's tales.

O~O~O

The senior student's communal bath was cleansing, its magical properties soothing Hermione's stress. Steam erupted from the warm water, spiralling and expanding through the air creating a dream-like atmosphere. The bath itself was circular and deep enough to submerge one's full body if standing upright. A single underwater step that curved around the edge served as a seat for those who did not want their face wet. Hermione sat on the marble step, head resting against Luna's lap who was seated outside of the bath, her bare feet dangling in the water either side of her friend. The brown haired witch was not shy about her body. If anything, she was thankful that Luna was with her. Although as unusual as she was, Luna had a unique way of connecting with people. She was not one to pry and she had helped Hermione by offering to run her a bath. At first she resisted but once she stepped into the hot liquid she finally felt at ease.

They were alone in the bath house. Not uncommon for the middle of the day as most people were either in the Great Hall or out exploring the grounds. The blonde stroked the brunette's hair in a motherly nature and Hermione welcomed the comfort of another. Silently her mind wandered and she found herself daydreaming about Narcissa; what it would be like if it were her hands running through her locks, to feel the soft touch of her slender fingers. She longed to swim in the pale eyes of the older woman and talk as freely as they had done. Hermione attempted to remember the exquisite features –flawless elegance contrasting with the superiority of her bloodline. Her eyes opened sharply, blushing as she recollected the warm breath of Bellatrix against her neck, her lips nipping at her ear in a close whisper. As frightened as she was of the Death Eater, the dark witch had a twisted, sexual magnetism that captivated Hermione in an unexplainable way. Although she feared for her life, she needed to confront the sisters if she had any hope of fulfilling her part of the vow.

Hermione broke the long silence. As carefully as she could so not to rouse her suspicions, she attempted to speak Luna's somewhat dotty language.

"Luna? Hypothetically, how would you find a ramora in an ocean?" Hermione felt offensive using a magical creature as an analogy for Narcissa but it was the first thing that came to her mind and she couldn't possibly have given away the real situation. "Say that you were looking for a specific ramora. How is it possible when the ocean is so vast and you are the only one searching?"

The blonde tilted her head in thought, continuing to stroke Hermione's hair. She enjoyed riddles and was relieved that her friend's mind was side tracked from whatever discomfort she was previously feeling.

"Have you seen this ramora somewhere before?"

"Yes."

"Then it's obvious, isn't it? You just go to where you last saw it."

"That's rather simplistic. How can you be sure she…it…will be there at that same spot when the rest of the ocean is there to swim?"

"My father says that every living creature functions on patterns. If you are patient, the pattern will begin again and the ramora will eventually cross your path if you simply wait."

Hermione thought about the one-dimensional response. She refused that the answer could be so simple but at the same time, it was entirely logical.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Luna had seen her friend grasp her neck, watching her claw away at the skin.

"I'm fine Luna, really." She let go to prove herself but the pain was not subdued and she felt her head grow heavy as her eyes momentarily rolled in their sockets exposing their whites.

"I…It must be just the heat that's getting to me." After a moment, Hermione got out of the bath and wrapped her initialled Gryffindor towel around her naked body.

"Thank you Luna. You've been so kind today."

The blonde smiled warmly and produced a fresh uniform which Hermione gratefully put on, disposing her dirty clothes in a wash basket for the castle's elves. Luna had offered to take Hermione back to the Common Room but the young witch declined, opting to attend her classes instead.

"It's only the first day and I've already missed so much. Thanks again Luna, I'll see you later tonight." Hermione waved goodbye to her friend as they went their separate ways, the blonde unaware of the severity of the pain the other was enduring.

O~O~O

The Great Hall was alive with the sound of cutlery on breakfast plates and the excited chatter of students receiving mail by owl. Hermione sat with the rest of Gryffindors beside Ron, with Harry sitting on the opposite side facing the duo. She had barely eaten anything, her fingers playing with a piece of toast that had gone cold. It upset her that her two friends had not noticed her behaviour over the last few weeks. Hermione had distanced herself, burrowing her head in her studies attempting to focus her thoughts on anything but what had happened at Spinner's End. She had considered that if one of them had asked she would most likely divulge the rest of the story but Harry had not even expressed gratitude for the risk she and Ron had taken and a part of her felt resentful.

She looked up from her toast and sure enough, the boys were not paying attention. Ever since Harry conveyed his doubts about Snape to Dumbledore he had been disappointed that the Headmaster did not investigate the situation further. Instead, he directed the conversation to another matter altogether. Dumbledore had shown him a personal memory of when he first met Tom Riddle in the orphanage and Harry brought it up whenever the opportunity arose.

"Hey," Hermione pipped up, attempting to steer the discussion away from an already exhausted topic "are you guys going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?" Ever since McGonagall had informed the school that there would be another weekend excursion, Hermione's efforts of pushing Narcissa out of her mind became increasingly futile and she found herself daydreaming in class.

Ron turned to her excitedly.

"So looking forward to some of Madame Rosmerta's butter beer!" In reality, he couldn't wait to get as far away from his homework as possible. He avoided Snape like the plague this semester, paranoid that he suspected something.

Harry confirmed he would be coming along and redirected the discussion back to Voldemort and a textbook he had found on the first day of potions class, claiming to be property of 'The Half-Blood Prince'.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione left for the library without touching her breakfast.

O~O~O

Hermione sat cross-legged above her quilts, her curtains drawn around her bed in privacy. It was nearing midnight and outside snow blanketed the ground, reflecting the moonlight above. Nights spent gazing at the photograph had become routine and her heart beat faster at the prospect of encountering the blonde haired witch tomorrow. Her hopes had already been let down once before. The first time the students had gone to Hogsmeade this year Hermione had told her friends she had errands to run for Slughorn and would meet them back at the castle before curfew. Instead she had apparated to Knockturn Alley where, under the guise of more appropriate attire, she waited in secret for Narcissa. Colder months cloaked the streets in darkness early and Hermione was frightened at the array of characters she narrowly avoided that lurked the spoiled alleyways. She was freezing by the time she returned, her mood deflating further when she heard of the good times her friends had, had in the village.

With one last look at the photograph she returned it to the security of her enchanted bag. Tonight she must have stared at the picture for over an hour. Over the past weeks she had admitted to herself that the attraction she held for Narcissa was nothing like that for Ron. She had tried her hardest to imagine what it would be like, kissing him passionately, his hands running down her back but the thought did not stimulate her. If anything, she acted ignorant to his advancements and avoided the possibility of being alone with him.

She lay down under her blankets, closing her eyes, her hand caressing her stomach. Images of the Blacks flooded her mind and she allowed herself to pull up her nightshirt. She focused on her hardening nipples as she circled and pinched them softly at thought of Narcissa's dominance. Her body pressed against Hermione's, exploring the curve of her body and the sensitivity of her neck. Rich burgundy lips would find her own and she imagined welcoming the sweetness of Narcissa's tongue as it invaded her mouth.

Hermione could feel the heat in her core, the yearning to relieve her desire growing stronger as she fantasied of slender arms wrapping around her from behind and massaging the swell of her breasts. Her hand trailed down her own body and under her pyjama bottoms. Her imagination grew as her digits slid over the bundle of nerves and she buried her face in her pillow as she increased the strength of her movements. She bit her lip, tempted to explore the depths of her sex but instead returned to the mound which was becoming increasingly sensitive. Her mind raced and her hands kept the pace, her left stimulating her swollen nipples. When she felt her back beginning to arch she slowed and retrieved her hand regrettably. The size of the shared room made it almost impossible for anyone to pleasure themselves and not be heard. She had overheard girls whimper at night much to their embarrassment when others taunted them about it the next day. Hermione did not want to make the list but her sexual frustration had amplified as her longing to be touched by another grew stronger.

O~O~O

The train to Hogsmeade departed soon after the morning meal and the trio shared a carriage with Neville and Luna much to Hermione's relief. With company, regular conversation flowed freely and the brunette found herself laughing along with everyone at Neville's encounter with a particularly vicious garden gnome near the Herbology Greenhouses. Luna presented a vile of thick violet liquid claiming that it relieved aches and pains and Hermione graciously accepted, pocketing the ointment. There were no visible marks but over the last few days Hermione had clawed at her skin until it was red raw. A simple touch-up charm hid her self-inflicted lacerations but the intensity of the pain did not subside and many days she felt herself on the brink of collapse.

The locomotive soon came to standstill as it paralleled the station platform. Students descended the stairs and quickly made their way inside various stores to escape the frosty air. Hermione walked with her friends to Madame Rosemerta's tavern before saying goodbye.

"Urgh, yeah it's Slughorn again. He wants me to collect some items for our next potions class." She allowed Ron and Harry to glimpse at the forged note she had written earlier that morning before tucking it away inside her coat pocket.

"Oooh, teacher's pet." Ron teased jokingly.

"Shut-up Ron." Countered Hermione, rolling her eyes. "It's hardly a task someone would give to their _favourite _student. Anyway, I'll see you two later. If I'm back before the five o'clock curfew I'll meet you for a butter beer."

She turned on her heel, walking in the direction of some high thatched roofs. When she was sure no one was in sight, she disapparated with a quiet 'pop'.

O~O~O

The snow covered streets of Knockturn Alley gave the illusion of innocence to the destitute suburb. Winter's breath blew icy kisses against the young witch's cheeks as she sheltered from the falling pearly flakes. She waited in view of Borgin and Burke, examining each cloaked figure closely hoping that one would be _her. _

An hour had passed and Hermione felt her legs growing numb. At times she couldn't tell if it was frostbite or the unknown pain that was causing her the discomfort in her neck. She slumped against the alley's wall, its filth rubbing off on her coat. Tears welled and stung her eyes, blurring her vision. It was happening again. The gnawing sensation that begged to be fed with sharpened fingernails. Fumbling in pocket, Hermione salvaged the vile Luna had given her and applied it generously. Her sensory receptors went haywire as the intensity increased, the bile in her throat rising. She tore at her delicate flesh, crimson droplets tainting the earth's pure canvas.

When most of the violet liquid was removed, the pain receded slightly but the damage was already done. Hermione lay on her side, using the natural chill of the snow to relieve the throbbing in her neck. Any use of magic only amplified the stabbing ache tenfold. Sweat pasted her hair to her skin and her eyes were distant as she attempted to regulate her breathing. Her head was spinning and her body weak.

A faint ringing in her ears made her groan but she became alert as it quickly silenced. She listened carefully, dragging her body up and resting on her elbows. Through the shop's window she could see a beautifully handcrafted cabinet with decorative brass handles. She waited a moment longer before she heard the distinct ring again. The door of Borgin and Burke swung open and there standing in the doorway was Narcissa. She dipped her head gracefully at the shop's keeper before shielding her face with an elegant, fur hood. Hermione's heart hammered as she watched the cloaked figure walk out onto the snowy streets and turn in the opposite direction.

"Madame Malfoy!" It took all of Hermione's strength to struggle to her feet and come out of her hiding spot.

If the blonde had heard the younger witch she didn't give any indication.

Hermione ran towards her, clutching her neck as the pain seared her flesh and burrowed into the bone.

"Narcis-!" As she screamed the older woman's name she fell, giving into the agony that consumed her body. Her eyes fluttering shut as the icy ground provided some comfort.

In seconds, a protective body knelt beside Hermione, gasping at the discolouration of her face and the raw flesh exposed at her neck. Delicate hands cupped her face and desperate words urged her to open her eyes.

"Bella, what have you done?"

Hermione was unresponsive; all she could make out was the hurried footsteps of another woman and a hushed argument before her world began to spin.

* * *

To Be Continued...


	5. Chapter 5

If you're still here, thank you for being patient! I know it's been a while but I submitted my essay the other day and now I can get back to writing. Once uni finishes for the year in November you'll see more regular updates.

I do respond to every review (or at least I think I do? I click on that little speech bubble to the right xD) buuuuutttt I'm just pathetic at using so I'll just reply to a few here because you guys really did make my week when I saw those emails. I WILL work on my tech skills xD

**Amaranta316: **You're always such a pleasure to read! Your comments are always so amusing! Study hard ;)

**1Past and Present1: **Thank you! Luna is one of my girlfriend's favourite characters so I just had to add her in (even if I can't stand her myself xD)

**Caradens: **Hmm will Hermione get help? She'll probably need some soon but perhaps not the help she necessarily wants :p

**Shycoyotegirl:** If you're still with me after this chapter I hope to update before the weekend is over^^

** 214: **Voila! Thank you :D and I hope this chapter is up to par

Hope it was worth the wait!

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Chapter Five

Hermione could barely move. She was spread out on the solid oak floor, her eyes long since rolled into the back of her head. The only indicators that validated her continued existence came from the rapid rise and fall of her chest and the sickening gargle from within her throat. Pulped flesh harboured under her fingernails from the impulsive, self-induced lacerations to her neck.

Narcissa closely observed the sharpness of the young witch's breath and turned in irritation to her eldest sister.

"You promised me she'd come to no harm." She hissed, raising her wand to apply a tourniquet to ease the tide of crimson flowing from the unconscious Gryffindor. Bellatrix held up her hand, stopping the blonde from casting the spell.

"It's like you don't know me at all Cissy." The dark witch smirked, lowering Narcissa's wand whilst playfully tracing shapes onto her soft hands.

"Not now Bella," she drew her sister's gaze back to the lifeless figure on the ground "revive her. _Immediately_. I can scarcely stand looking at that Mudblood when she's conscious let alone watching her impurities tarnish my floor."

The Death Eater looked down at the young woman who was beginning to spasm. She had thought the brunette would come sooner and now it was going to take more effort than she was willing to give in order to bring back this pathetic creature. She bent down and tossed Hermione's bag to Narcissa.

"Search it."

The manor's matriarch kept her sister's stare and took her cue to leave Bellatrix to her own will. When she had closed the goblin-crafted doors after herself, Bellatrix knelt down in seiza behind Hermione's crown. The young witch had turned a deathly shade of white, her transparing skin contrasting with the burnt butter-like colour under her eyes.

"We're going to have such fun together Mudblood. When you come around you'll wish that my sister had left you in the snow."

Her laughter was low as she ghosted the fevered cheeks of Hermione. She positioned her middle and index fingers above the young woman's temples, closing her own eyes briefly to focus her mind. She could feel the strength of the natural magic in her veins, flowing throughout the complex network within her system, carried for centuries in her bloodline. _Toujours pur._ When her onyx orbs reopened she forcefully pressed her fingertips into the delicate pockets of Hermione's skull. The atmosphere within the room had become thick with the power of wandless magic. Hermione's form flailed, rebounding off the solid floorboards but Bellatrix's strength held her in position. Soon her body adjusted to the dark witch's touch, allowing the poisons to ooze from her pours and vanish into the air. The bleeding ceased and her face regained a healthy glow. She had yet to recuperate her full strength but Bellatrix had, had enough of babysitting and she rose from the floor.

Hermione opened her eyes slowly, her focus adjusting to the light before falling on a mass of cascading ringlets. A sweet voice sung from the older woman's lips, her eyes merciless.

"Hello again, Mudblood."

Hermione's heart thudded in panic and she crawled backwards in desperation, frantically trying to recognise her surroundings. Bellatrix walked closely behind, keeping her pace steady, an insane laugh erupted from her lips. She closed the distance between them and dug the heel of her boot into Hermione's sternum, pinning her to the ground. Hermione cried out as the pain exploded in her chest.

"You know Muddy, you're not as bright as they say you are." She took pleasure in watching the defenceless brunette squirm under her before kicking her in the ribs. Hermione contracted into a ball in an attempt to shield her vital organs.

"When I said that 'you'll come back to me soon' that was a command, not an invitation!"

Hermione whimpered as a cruciatus curse struck her, tears streaming down her face.

"Please! Please stop! Ple-" she chocked on her words as Bellatrix lowered herself onto the floor, grabbing a fistful of chestnut locks.

"Now, now love," Bellatrix clucked, primitive desires flooded her imagination "you did this to yourself. You just had to meddle with my family didn't you? Now you'll pay the price. Everything that happens will be all. thanks. to. you."

The young witch groaned with a mixture of pain and confusion.

Bellatrix forced Hermione to look at her, tightening her grip.

"If I wasn't mistaken Mudblood, you get off on the pain. Why else would you wait this long?"

"W…what are you even talking about?" Fear laced Hermione's voice. Her eyes were looking into the callous orbs of her tormentor; darkness spiralling down into a bottomless abyss. Hermione shuddered at what they have witnessed – severed families, mutilation and the horrors from within the pits of Azkaban - things far worse than death itself.

"Oh Muddy, don't play coy," Bellatrix caressed the brunette's neck with a slender finger. Hermione caught herself before she leant into the touch but the hesitation had not gone unnoticed by the Death Eater.

"Don't tell me you didn't feel it, the poison, right here." She dug her nail into Hermione's soft flesh.

She grit her teeth as her mind replayed every moment of agony over the last month.

"Yes. Did you feel the throb?" A hand trailed down Hermione's neck.

"Did you feel the heat's intensity?" Digits danced along her collarbone.

"Did you think of me?" Fingers slipped under her shirt and teased the skin above her bra.

The dark witch grinned at the Gryffindor. Hermione's eyes had closed, giving into the seductive touch of the woman.

"It's my calling card. I thought you'd have figured it out by now. If you keep me waiting you'll only weaken. No wand can numb it; no medicine can relieve it. My touch and my touch alone can lessen your burden. So when I call, you will come, Mudblood." She removed her hand from under the shirt.

Hermione nodded submissively, she felt too weak to struggle. Tears flowed from their ducts as she realised that no matter where she was she could not escape Bellatrix.

"Well Mudblood," The dark witch had grown bored "if you can crawl, you can walk!" Bellatrix stood, never letting go of Hermione's hair. The Gryffindor let out a high pitch scream, clawing at Bellatrix's hands as the older woman dragged her through the mansion. Opening a set of double doors, she released her grasp and pushed Hermione through them.

The majesty of the living room was amplified by the crystal chandeliers that hung from the high ceilings and intricate tapestries that lined the walls. A fire crackled in its marble prison and long, leather lounge chairs sheltered in its warmth. On the far side of the room sat Narcissa. Hermione's handbag was in her lap and a half empty glass of red wine was levitated at her side. The contents of the bag were neurotically sorted into piles and from what the young witch could tell; only a fraction of the items had been removed so far. The blonde had indicated that she did not show an interest in her new company. She sat dignified and reserved, drinking deeply as Bellatrix closed the doors.

"Tell me Mudblood," her words were spat as she glided over to the trembling witch that stood before her "why did you go to all that trouble that night? What were you hoping to prove?"

Hermione straightened her spine, attempting to show courage as Bellatrix circled her like a feline stalking its prey. The longer she remained silent, the less the dark witch wanted to play. The click of her heels ceased as she stood behind the brunette, holding her wand against Hermione's bruised neck. She could feel the electricity emanating and shut her eyes tightly.

"Please," she whispered, desperate to be spared from another unforgivable curse.

Bellatrix cocked an eyebrow, running her hand down the length of the younger woman's arm.

"Please what Mudblood?"

She inched forward; pressing her breasts against the other's back, speaking softly as her lips brushed Hermione's lobe. Her breath made Hermione's hairs stand on end and her stomach do backflips.

"I thought that this is what got you off?"

She laughed devilishly as she invaded Hermione's mind. If she wasn't going to cooperate, Bellatrix would take the information she required by force.

It was easy to penetrate her thoughts, Hermione was still vulnerable and the Death Eater skilfully navigated her memories through the power of legilimency. It was like walking down a continuous corridor that branched off into endless rooms. Bellatrix savoured the moments she peered through doors that contained Hermione's darkest fears and snickered at the kiss she shared with the Weasley boy.

All of her memories were wide open, except for one. If she hadn't been searching so thoroughly, Bellatrix probably would have missed it. The sealed door was identical in colour to the wall, as if was attempting to camouflage itself. Bellatrix reached out but there was no knob, no handle. Pressing her ear against the wood, she could make out the faint cry of an infant. The dark witch had no concern for children but the locked door played on her curiosities as she left to explore the others.

O~O~O

Soon she found what she was looking for. She did not recognise the location but the trio were easily distinguishable. They were sitting around a burning newspaper, planning to impersonate Severus and Bellatrix couldn't help but cackle at the suicide mission. She listened to the Boy-Who-Lived talk about his nightmares involving the Dark Lord and the correlations with the photograph.

_Photograph? What photograph?_

Bellatrix looked around the room, her eyes falling on the frame within Hermione's hands. Walking over, she glanced at it from behind the girl's shoulder. The Death Eater was slightly taken aback. It was if she was looking into a pensieve filled with her own, forgotten memories. It was her last year at Hogwarts and she had grown to be both feared and prized by her professors at such an age. Bellatrix looked at her peers. They all belonged to the 'Slug Club', collected by that fat, fool of a teacher. Her sister stood in front of her in the photograph. Powerful and beautiful - just as Bellatrix has always known. She had made the arranged marriage between Bellatrix and Rodolphus very difficult for the family that year, not wanting to give her older sister up without a fight. They had always been close however as time did tell, the marriage never did alter their relationship.

_Where did they get this?_

Bellatrix ran down the corridor, passing memory after memory until one door made her body freeze and her blood boil. Moonlight illuminated the darkened bedroom; creased blouses with torn buttons littered the floor. Bellatrix stepped through the doorway, her heart racing. She recognised the sound of heavy breathing as it grew louder. Pinned against the wall, a shirtless Hermione whimpered behind an older woman. Her hair was like blonde silk and she wore a black, lace bra and matching knee length skirt. Hands cupped the younger's breasts, thumbs ghosting her erect nipples.

"Narcissa…"

At the sound of her name, the aristocratic witch leant in and kissed her passionately, her tongue dominating Hermione's as the Gryffindor let slip a moan. Narcissa massaged her breasts, rolling her hardened nipples between her fingers.

Bellatrix's eyes flared as she watched on.

_This is not a memory…it's a fantasy_

Narcissa's hands were trailing up the brunette's thigh, stopping at the junction between her legs, teasing her over her jeans.

"Yes."

The young witched gasped the other woman's name over and over, every touch sending her body into ecstasy as clothes fell away and onto the floor.

Bellatrix couldn't bear it any longer. Her concentration broke and the dark witch found herself back in the living room of the Malfoy Manor. It felt like she had been gone for hours but in real time, the powers of legilimency lasted mere seconds. She was breathing heavily, her eyes wild.

Hermione had slipped to the floor, her mind completely exhausted from the intrusion.

"Oh, no you don't Mudblood." Bellatrix growled, pulling the young witch to her feet by the collar of her shirt.

"You know exactly what I saw you little whore."

They were nose to nose. Hermione had never seen the Death Eater so furious. Her blushed face revealed her shame. Bellatrix squeezed Hermione's cheeks between her thumb and forefinger, turning the brunette's head sharply to look at the woman sitting on the sofa.

"So it's not the pain that gets you off Mudblood. It's my little sister that turns you on."

The words were harsh against her ear as Bellatrix humiliated her further.

"Do you like it when you think about her touching you here?" She roughly grabbed Hermione's breast. She gasped out in pain, attracting the attention of Narcissa.

"Or do you prefer it when she's inside you? What's the matter Mudblood? Don't you like the blood-traitor Weasley anymore? Wasn't he a good enough fuck?"

She threw the terrified girl on the ground and straddled her, crushing her weight against her chest to restrict her lungs.

"You listen to me you filthy little Mudblood. I don't like to repeat myself but it seems your dirty blood affects your memory too. She is out of your league. Never, ever forget that!"

She crashed her lips against Hermione's, inhaling her perfume before pulling away and slapping her harshly against the cheek. Bellatrix rose to her feet. She pointed her wand at the stunned woman and Hermione recognised the same intense look in her eyes that she had seen in the photograph: raw jealousy.

The corners of the dark witch's lips curled as she read Hermione's thoughts. Her wand made a familiar swish-and-flick movement and Hermione was in the air, levitated high above the ground.

"Let me down!" She cried as she felt her stomach churn and head spin.

"As you wish, Mudblood." Bellatrix half said to herself, flicking her wand once more.

Hermione's screams ricocheted off the walls as she plummeted through the air like a discarded ragdoll. She squeezed her eyes shut, awaiting the contact with the floor.

It never came.

Her screams turned into cries of relief. The beating in her chest escalated as she opened her eyes to Narcissa above her, she had caught Hermione with only inches from the ground. She lowered the brunette gently down before turning her attention to her sister. The eldest Black softened, a possessive arm slipping around Narcissa's waist.

"Here Bella, come now, this is no way to treat company." The blonde reached into her coat pocket and slipped a peppermint candy into the Death Eater's mouth. Hermione blushed as Bellatrix caught her sister's finger lightly between her teeth. She flicked the fingertip with her tongue, watching Hermione's mortified reaction. Narcissa's eyes fluttered closed as the raven haired woman sucked on her index. There was a stabbing in Hermione's heart and she turned away from the sisters.

"I will see that she is more _appropriately_ tended to."

Narcissa withdrew her hand and gave an instructive look to her sister who stalked over to the fireplace.

"Come with me." The pure-blood's voice was cold but it gave Hermione more comfort than that of Bellatrix's.

She took the outstretched hand, savouring the soft contact of Narcissa's skin, wishing she didn't have to let go. Even with everything that had happened to her, Hermione couldn't help but admire the elegance that came second nature to the sophisticated witch. She allowed herself to be led through the same double doors and watched the blonde close them. They were standing in the entrance hall of the mansion which was as elaborately decorated as the last room.

"Madame Malfoy, thank you…if you hadn't had caught me…"

"Do not confuse my hospitality for kindness, Mudblood. You were only brought here because otherwise you would have died. That is one thing money cannot replace."

Hermione's smiled faded, hurt by Narcissa's words.

"I understand that you are aware of the risks of our…_undesirable_ situation?"

The younger witch nodded, captivated by the blueness of the icy woman's eyes.

"Very good. I trust that you have not shared our agreement with a third party."

"I…I don't know what I'm supposed to do." Hermione shook as Narcissa stepped towards her.

"All in good time," she observed the welt on the younger woman's cheek, remembering that night in Spinner's End "we cannot have you trying to jeopardise the situation. You have already done enough, don't you think?"

"I'm sorry." Hermione whispered, lowering her head.

Narcissa's eyes blazed.

"_'Sorry'_ doesn't even begin to erase what you have done."

She snapped her fingers and within seconds a house elf apparated, bowing deeply at his mistress.

"See that Miss Granger is given some refreshments. I must return to my sister."

The creature bowed once again and gestured to Hermione to follow him up the marbled staircase. She looked back at Narcissa who kept her gaze, chin raised proudly before disappearing back behind the doors.

O~O~O

"Are you going to tell me what that was all about?"

Narcissa sat beside her sister who had broken into the firewhisky. The smell of the warm alcohol blended well with the sharpness of the peppermint. Bellatrix handed her the photograph that she had found in Hermione's bag.

"The Mudblood has a crush."

Narcissa stared at the moving picture, eyes falling on the young Slytherin students. She raised an eyebrow in question at the dark witch and light-heartedly chuckled.

"So you were going to kill her because she has a schoolgirl infatuation with Severus?" she teased.

Bellatrix was emotionless and poured herself another glass.

"Rodolphus?"

She tipped her head back and welcomed the burning sensation in her throat.

"Lucius?" The blonde scanned the photo and looked up; the humour had left her voice.

"You, dear sister. She lusts for you!" Bellatrix threw the crystal. The million shards of glass glittered the floor.

Narcissa wrapped her arms around the Death Eater's neck, staring into her eyes.

"You aren't jealous are you Bella?" She smiled in jest. "What would I want with a Mudblood anyway?" She leaned into Bellatrix and kissed her porcelain neck softly, nipping at the skin as she made her way up to her ear.

"I saw inside her head, Cissy." The eldest brought her closer, running her hands through the blonde hair. "She thinks about you all the time. She fucks herself over you. Your hands on her body…you were so…submissive."

"You know very well who I submit to."

She growled as Narcissa kissed her for the last time on the cheek.

"Cock tease."

"You're one to talk." She waved her index finger at the pouting witch. "Come now Bella, tell me what you can about Draco."

"What is there to tell? Potter seems to have visions and knows Draco is working with Severus."

Narcissa's heart sunk. "He knows about the plan? Impossible, the girl said she hasn't got a clue."

Bellatrix played with the silky fabric of Narcissa's dress. "He just knows who is involved, not their roles."

The blonde exhaled, unaware that she had been holding her breath.

"When are you going to tell the Dark Lord?"

Bellatrix shot her a warning look. "He doesn't need to know about that Cissy. If he found out you had made the Unbreakable Vow with a Mudblood…" she pushed her nails through the fabric and into her sister's thigh.

Narcissa considered the possibility and erased the thought from her mind. Delicate hands forced Bellatrix's down and the blonde concentrated on the pressure of the nails piercing through flesh.

"She doesn't know what to do…" Narcissa gasped as cherry droplets bubbled and expanded across the material.

"The Mudblood will have to be trained in secret, just as Draco has done. She must not be told until the very last moment or she'll surely ruin everything." The Death Eater smirked as she burrowed further into skin.

"The sooner this is over the sooner she will be gone forever." She resumed kissing the dark witch's jaw while continuing the pressure.

"There's been a change of plans Cissy."

The blonde softly moaned in reply.

"Before I kill her you will break her."

Narcissa sat upright, easing her sister's nails from the fresh wounds.

"You heard me Cissy. That filthy Mudblood wants you." She leant in, whispering in the blonde's ear. "Let her believe it, let her hurt from the inside out." Bellatrix rubbed the bloody patch on Narcissa's dress.

"I will not degrade myself any further Bellatrix." She hissed back, pulling away from the Death Eater.

"Consider it Cissy. Make her suffer for everything that she has put you through."

O~O~O

Hermione sat in the library wearing a plush robe. The house elf had offered to wash her snow-soaked clothes and she waited for his return. She blew on the hot chocolate without proceeding to drink. Touching her fingers to her lips she remembered the poisonous kiss. Her lips had been so different to those of Ron. They were soft and made Hermione's core burn for more. Looking back, she somewhat liked the feeling of the powerful witch forcing herself upon her. She was confused. At times Bellatrix had been gentle, almost affectionate and then her mood would swing and she'd transform back into the malicious Death Eater. Then there was Narcissa with all the demeanour and beauty expected from her pedigree. Hermione reflected on the almost incestuous obsession the two shared before pushing the thought out of her mind. She was attracted to the power Narcissa possessed to tame the one thing that the Ministry could not cage – Bellatrix's insanity.

A distinct 'pop' was heard and Hermione looked up to see that the house elf had returned. He bowed low, in his outstretched hands were Hermione's clothes, washed, pressed and neatly folded.

"Thank you, um…?"

"Lutin. Will there be anything else for Miss Granger?"

"Thank you, Lutin. No, I appreciate what you've done for me."

The frail house elf looked down and smiled to himself, unaware of how to respond to the compliment. With other bow he disapparted, allowing Hermione to dress privately.

Hermione removed the robe and hung it on the back of the chair. She was relieved that the bruises on her skin had faded and silently thanked Bellatrix for restoring her health. Ironic, considering the witch had almost killed her. She slipped on her cotton underwear and cupped her breasts in her bra. Hermione let out a gasp of surprise as strange hands fastened the clasp. She turned around, instinctively covering herself. Narcissa looked down on the young woman, smiling at the Gryffindor's embarrassment.

"Your bag and your wand. I think you'll find everything to be as it were." She said stepping closer.

Hermione backed up against the desk. She could feel the lingering eyes of Narcissa on her body as she retrieved her possessions.

"Thank you, Madame Malfoy."

Narcissa dipped her head in response. Indeed, she could become accustomed to Hermione's body. She was attractive; more so than some of the other pureblood's daughters she had been scouting for Draco. Her stomach was flat and her breasts were firm.

Hermione gripped the edge of the desk, blushing at an evoked fantasy.

"When you are dressed I will see you out. You will tell no one of your visit. Next time my sister calls it would be wise if you do not keep her waiting, she can be rather…unforgiving."

Hermione's gaze fell on the bloodied dress and restrained herself from reaching out to the woman. Narcissa distracted the Gryffindor, leaning towards her so that Hermione bent backwards. The blonde lingered over the semi-naked body, fingers trailed over Hermione's collarbone and down between her breasts, stopping at her navel. The young witch's face reddened and felt the dampness between her legs as Narcissa brought her lips close to hers. The older woman spoke softly, her tone containing an icy bite.

"I like pretty things Miss Granger. But you are simply tin painted gold."

Yes, Bellatrix was right, she could make this virgin suffer. There was a strategy, she always had one when it came to revenge, came to lust, came to pain, came to sex. It would be long drawn. The Mudblood would work hard for her affection and in the end Narcissa was convinced that if Hermione didn't die of a broken heart, she would be wishing that she could.


	6. Chapter 6

"I'll update before the weekend" she said "I promise" she said.

-ahem-

I hope you can forgive me. I actually wrote chapter seven before this one. I scrapped chapter six at least twice and to be honest I'm still not 100% satisfied (it probably shows) though I hope some smut might make it up to you. Yes? No…?

I'm pretty sure my replies to your reviews sent but I'll just put some extra stuff here if you don't mind.  
**Kaiamz: **I'm not entirely sure how long this will be. At the moment I'm making it up as I go along with a rough idea in my head for the plot. It may or may not continue after the end of the DH part 2 :)

**Amaranta: **Thank you, I'll probably ease back on some of the torture towards Hermione…for now xD The other day I was playing around with the idea of a Stockholm Syndrome-like effect between her and Bellatrix but I'll see if I can actually pull it off in later chapters.

Oh yeah, I made a few things up, you'll probably find them and the timeline doesn't align with the movies so smoothly but that was intended (I don't plan to follow it scene by scene…plagiarism yo.)

So yes, this chapter is a tad shorter than usual. I did treat it more of a filler/snapshots of scenes but you'll see that some things have seeded from here later on.

Chapter seven _is_ done and it'll be up later in the week. Happy hump day! I'm off to do assignments.

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Chapter Six

The tension was thick. Hermione's knuckles had turned white, gripping onto the desk as if her life depended on it. Perspiration beaded her exposed skin, her sensors on high alert. The woman had not moved her finger from above the girl's navel. It was the lightest touch – enough so that Hermione could feel her but without getting her hands dirty, if such a thing was even possible. Narcissa was poised above the brunette, her cold exterior shadowing the amusement she felt within. Hermione's chest rose and fell in deep movements. The curvature of her breasts had not gone unnoticed; the lady of the house had made no effort in pretending that she wasn't looking. Strangely, Hermione was more embarrassed by her choice of underwear than anything else. Mismatched cotton would not have been her first choice if she had any inkling that she would be standing naked in front of the woman who regularly appeared in her fantasies. But how could she have known? She didn't deem it possible.

Indeed, even with minimalist makeup, Narcissa's skin had remained youthful bar the few crow's feet in the corner of her eyes. Her features were exquisite. Without her coat, the silver dress revealed her neckline and the swell of her breasts. She was beautiful. Hermione noticed that Bellatrix had left more than one mark upon the woman. In the corner of the blonde's mouth, Hermione spied remnants of the Death Eater's lipstick. The very same she had wiped off her own lips.

"Is there something on your mind?" Narcissa purred as if reading her thoughts and Hermione wondered if she too was a trained Legilimen.

The student attempted to conceal the blush that had crept across her face by changing her mindset completely.

"Madame Malfoy, please, won't you tell me what your son has to do?"

The aristocratic woman removed her finger and arched herself over Hermione, her hands now on the desk, either side of the Gryffindor. Narcissa leant down and rested her cheek beside the brunette's. The difference in temperature was pronounced between the two women, Hermione's skin cooling against the icy pureblood.

"I did not come in here to discuss politics with you, Miss Granger."

Teeth lightly scraped the brunette's neck, sending shivers down her spine. Hermione's eyes fluttered shut, a weak moan escaping her lips. Exploring hands worked their way around the girl's body, deliberately boycotting the two pieces of cloth that left little to the imagination.

"Your sister told you?" Was all that she could reply.

Narcissa hummed against the pulse point on Hermione's neck, her fingers dancing on her clavicle as Bellatrix had done earlier.

"I too have eyes, Miss Granger. I am not blind."

The blonde caressed the girl's fingers, easing them from the wood and placing them on her waist. She knew what she wanted and Hermione followed her instructions.

Narcissa lowered the bra so it was beneath Hermione's breasts, cupping the swell in her hands. Her pink nipples needed little stimulation as they quickly hardened to the woman's touch. The Gryffindor's breath was heavy, looking down at slender fingers pinching and massaging the swollen buds. Softly, the woman kissed her lips. She tasted of expensive wine and Hermione rolled her eyes back in ecstasy as her tongue invaded her mouth. As she moaned, Narcissa placed her other hand on her knickers, rubbing above the material.

"How much do you want it, Miss Granger?"

Hermione pushed her hips towards the woman, lusting for pressure. She was ashamed by her actions but at this point, when she was so close, she didn't seem to care. The brunette tightened her hold of the woman as fingers slipped under her underwear.

"Miss Granger,"

The blonde teased the girl, her fingers exploring the wet folds before focusing on her clit, rubbing in a circular motion.

"Miss Granger."

Hermione's core was burning as she massaged Narcissa's tongue with her own, loving the sound of her own name.

"Miss Granger!"

Her eyes snapped open; the icy eyes of the mistress had disappeared and were replaced with the taciturnity of her Transfiguration teacher.

"Miss Granger, look lively! Or is a wizard's skeletal disproportion when he unsuccessfully transforms from a toad boring you?" Her eyebrows knit as she peered at the blushing student from over her glasses. It was unlike Hermione to lose concentration in her classes, she was her top student.

"My…my apologies, Professor." She stammered, looking down. She could feel the dampness between her legs, a sense of shame washing over her.

"Your classmates will hope that you're sorry, Miss Granger. Five points from Gryffindor."

McGonagall had been lenient, her bias saving the girl from what would normally be a week worth of detentions.

"'Mione!" Ron elbowed her in annoyance.

The Slytherins on the opposite side of the classroom snickered at their maroon dressed peers.

This wasn't the first time that Hermione had daydreamt in class. It was becoming a common occurrence. She couldn't shake the woman from her mind.

O~O~O

After lunch, Hermione left the Great Hall with her friends and climbed the stairs to the Hospital Wing. The trio finally had a free period that coincided with visiting hours and hoped that Madame Pomfrey would be in a cooperative mood. Two weeks ago, between Hermione returning to Hogsmeade and students leaving to go back to school, a Gryffindor named Katie Bell had been cursed by a bewitched necklace. She had been rushed to St Mungo's hospital but earlier this week was transferred back to Hogwarts. The incident had rocked the school. No one had expected a student to be targeted while on an excursion and as a result, all future Hogsmeade weekends were suspended until further notice. For Hermione, she couldn't think of anything worse. Without the weekends, all legitimate pathways out of the school grounds were closed. She couldn't afford to wait if Bellatrix called before the Christmas break.

As they entered the sanitised space, the three spied the hospital's matron who was tending to a student, his face a striking shade of violet.

"Looks like one of Fred and George's Bleaching Bloosberries. They dye ya whole body purple!" Ron couldn't contain his fits of laughter, remembering when he tried out the practical joke on his sister.

"Ah, Mr Weasley," the nurse left her post and made her way over to the visitors, pinching the ginger boy's ear "you can tell your brothers to stop recommending Bloosberries, Puking Pastels and Grow-Grow Beards. I am sick to death of having students coming in here and taking up beds for those who are _actually_ ill!"

"Ouch, bloody hell! Yes, I will Madame Pomfrey!"

The stern woman released her hold of the wincing Gryffindor, a victorious smile spreading over her face. Harry and Hermione held their tongues, suppressing the hilarity of the moment as Ron rubbed his sore ear.

"I assume you're here to see Miss Bell? You're in luck, she woke up late last night but she is still very weak. No interrogating. I'm looking at _you_ Mr Potter."

Harry nodded and the three followed the nurse to a private bed. She pulled back the curtain instructing them to stay put while she checked on the patient. After a moment she reappeared.

"You may come in." Drawing back the curtain, the three Gryffindors huddled around the bed where a frail girl lay.

Madame Pomfrey took out a golden pocket watch and observed the time.

"You have half an hour. No more. Her parents will be soon arriving. I hope you understand the importance of family." With that, she shut the curtain and left the four students alone.

Hermione was the first to break the silence.

"We're so glad that you're awake, Katie. Everyone has been so worried. How do you feel?"

The girl smiled up at her visitors, happy to have some familiar faces around her.

"Much better now that you're here, thanks. Madame Pomfrey said I had been here for two weeks; I had no idea that I was out for so long. Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape came to see me this morning. They said I was lucky to be alive."

She encouraged the three to laugh, noting the obvious discomfort on their faces.

"We're very fortunate that Madame Pomfrey is such a good healer." Harry added. "Say, Katie, do you happen to remember what happened that day?"

Hermione shot Harry a warning look. This was exactly what the nurse had said not to do. He pretended not to notice and returned his attention to the girl. The trio had been in the room when Katie's friend told Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall what had happened. Katie had left to go to the bathroom in the Three Broomsticks and when she came out she was holding a package. She claimed it was for the headmaster but her curiosities got the better of her and upon touching the necklace, her body rose into the air before plummeting to the snow. The magic had certainly been powerful. Doctors at St Mungo's had worked on her for over nine hours and in the end she regained a stable condition. Harry was the first to accuse Draco of the attack, his suspicions never waning for the pureblood. Hermione had considered the allegation and couldn't help but panic as she thought of the vow.

"I'm sorry Harry, I can't. If I could, I would tell you everything, I swear. The doctors say it's unlikely I'll ever remember that moment though."

He nodded, unable to mask his disappointment.

"We're just glad you're okay, Katie."

The four of them continued talking, updating their friend on what had been happening while she was sick. When Madame Pomfrey told them that their time was up they said their goodbyes to Katie and left the hospital wing to get ready for their next class.

O~O~O

Gryffindor was in high spirits that night. The Common Room was full of maroon coloured jerseys and scarfs after the Quidditch tournament earlier that day. It was a time of celebration but that was the last thing Hermione felt like doing. She had attempted to join in on the festivities but a numbing sensation in her upper neck had deflated her mood and made her heart race. While her House mates cheered on their sporting heroes, the brunette found herself spacing out. _She _was calling.

The commotion in the confined space escalated. Hermione looked over at Ron just in time to see him snogging Lavender Brown. The room went berserk. A pang in her chest reminded Hermione of the comparison between Ron and Bellatrix's lips. He had been so rough and his maws were sloppy from sick tasting saliva. On the other hand, the Death Eater was soft, her full lips lingering on Hermione's and she remembered the flame that had ignited in her stomach before the dark witch pulled away. She was still unsure of how she really felt towards Bellatrix. There was danger and seduction that when combined, brewed a lethal sexual appeal however the cruelty was something that Hermione could bear without. If she had the composure of Narcissa…

She left the Common Room, hoping to go unnoticed. The unexpressed emotion had been building for quite some time. There was no one who she could talk to. Not her friends, not her teachers, no one. She had received specific instructions from Narcissa to keep their agreement in the dark but the pressures of life and death regularly ate away at her and now that the all so familiar pain had returned she worried for her own health. Sitting at the bottom of the stairwell, she cried. Alone, she took comfort in her own thoughts, confiding in the birds she had transfigured from discarded streamers.

The feelings for the blonde aristocrat had somewhat increased since their last encounter. It had become almost an obsession to take out the photograph before she slept; gazing at the young Slytherin she was bound to. How she longed to talk without the formalities and the blood-status segregations. Narcissa was an ice queen. Her alluring beauty – flawless. Yet though her persona towards Hermione was cold, the young witch couldn't help but feel the need to impress her. When it came to authority she was emotionally driven. There was a primal instinct inside her to be liked, to not be abandoned. Even Snape, who cared for no one but Slytherins, somewhat respected her. She felt like she had something to prove to the women.

Footsteps disturbed her thoughts. Turning around Harry was half way down the stairs, a concerned look spread across his face.

"What's with the birds?" He said, breaking the tension.

Hermione wiped her nose on her sleeve.

"Just practicing my charms, it's nothing really."

The Boy-Who-Lived sat down beside her, a comforting arm wrapped around her shoulders. Together they sat like that in silence, watching the birds dip and somersault above them. All Hermione could think about was Narcissa. The way in which she had saved her from Bellatrix's torture. The glacial magnetism of her eyes. The elegance of her demeanour. Her proud, statuesque composure. Despite it all, the woman would never associate with those who were not of pureblood status. Hermione had only the vow which tied her to the inner circle of the wizarding elites. Once it was broken, all bonds will be severed.

"How does it feel Harry? How does it feel when you see Dean with Ginny?"

Harry remained silent, a sadness washing over him.

"I see the way you look at her." Half talking to her friend, half to herself.

At that moment Ron and Lavender came hand in hand into the room, searching for a more _comfortable _setting. It was enough to push Hermione over the top and she sent the birds nosediving towards the couple. Yes, she was jealous but not over the ginger haired boy.

_How can he get what he wants so freely? Without the stigma and the unreciprocated needs and the impossibilities…_

The couple left as quickly as they had come and her body slumped against Harry's. She felt so worn down by the stress and emotion. The girl hung onto her friend's shirt as if it would stop her falling off the edge of the Earth and into a cavern of hopelessness. Sobs were muffled against the boy's jersey. He knew how it felt to love someone who he could not be with.

"It feels exactly like this Hermione."

The brunette took security within her friend's arms. Two hearts longing for something they each could not have.

"Maybe this Christmas you and Ron can, I dunno, make amends?"

Hermione's breath hitched. She could forgive Harry for assuming Ron was the reason behind her tears but he did not, could not understand that she longed to pick a forbidden fruit from its tree.

"I'm not sure if I'll be coming to the Burrow for Christmas this year, Harry. I haven't spent the holidays with my family in so long. Besides, with the way we've been fighting lately I doubt I would be welcome."

It's true that Harry had noticed his friends at each other's throats – more than usual. Often he had to step in to defuse the situation. It didn't help that Lavender had been tailing Ron for months either.

"You know that's not true, Hermione. Mrs Weasley would love to see you."

"I know. But I think I'd like to go home."

The numbness had faded and was replaced with a dull pain. The holidays couldn't come soon enough.


	7. Chapter 7

And now for something a little different.

* * *

Chapter Seven

"Cissy?"

"Mhm?" The blonde rolled over on her stomach, covering her naked body with satin sheets. She kissed the raven haired witch on her forehead before nestling herself against the woman's chest.

"Let me see them again." She caressed from the top of Narcissa's crown down to her chin in one slow movement. Perspiration cooled the heated bodies as they lay tangled together.

"Bella dear, you've already tired me out." The younger traced the protrusions of the Death Eater's spine, coming to rest on her tailbone.

"I don't think I can wait until morning…"

The blonde released her grasp and turned over, reaching for a mosaic jewellery box. It was oval in shape and shaded a mix of emerald green and onyx. The box itself was beautifully crafted, a gift given to Narcissa by her mother and easily could fit in the palm of one's hand.

Bellatrix cupped the woman's cheek.

"No Cissy. Without _them_. Just one look, I need this." She kissed her firmly, lavender perfume flooded her nostrils.

"You know what you're like Bella."

"I won't hurt you, not this time. You know I don't want to."

"I know." Narcissa hushed, kissing her back, inhaling a faint scent of peppermint.

It was the rare occasions such as this that Narcissa saw the vulnerable side of her sister. Azkaban had raped her of all her happiness. The Dementors were merciless but Bellatrix had held on while many of the Dark Lord's followers died at their hands. She could no longer remember life how it once was before she was incarcerated, confined to a cell that polluted her mind and distorted time. She was not who Narcissa had remembered. She had missed her eldest sister for over a decade. Because of the Malfoy name, Narcissa had been permitted to visit her once a year. Every time she did they did not speak - simply taste, simply see.

They both stared into each other's eyes. They had become familiar with the practice and the blonde inhaled deeply before opening her mind.

Bellatrix walked the length of the darkened corridor, easily navigating herself through the complex maze. Her sister, skilled in Occlumency, had a unique gift of protecting her mind against trespassers. The dark witch knew every room, every memory, every fantasy and every fear of Narcissa. Some she had shared, some she had created and some she had destroyed. Bellatrix paced the labyrinth's familiar path, stopping at the door she was searching for. For a while she leaned against the frame, watching the memory replay over and over again before stepping through the door.

O~O~O

_The sun's rays were pleasant, carrying the spring's breeze across the courtyard. Wild flowers and grasses had already sprouted out of the dirt and muddy puddles harboured in the uneven earth. _

_"Cissy, Bella! Come outside!" a childish voice called._

_"Dromeda, you know what mother said about getting our dresses ruined." A young Bellatrix stepped out onto the veranda, holding back an excited Narcissa. Her curls were tamed by a green ribbon, fastening her thick locks into a high ponytail. _

_"Come on Cissy! Don't you want to learn how to fly?" Andromeda coaxed. The middle child resembled Bellatrix physically, many people mistaking them as twins. _

_Narcissa nodded excitedly before looking up at the sister she was holding onto._

_"Bella, please play with us!" _

_"We were having fun inside before, weren't we Cissy? You will learn how to fly at school next year."_

_"Ha! She'll probably get sorted into Gryffindor. She's far too sweet." Andromeda teased._

_Bellatrix shot her sister a dark look and placed a protective hand on Narcissa's shoulder._

_"Says the blood traitor."_

_Andromeda put a finger to her lips, looking around for her parents._

_"Bella!" She hissed, nervous that her sister may tell the family of the friends she has made at Hogwarts. Similarities between Andromeda and Bellatrix stopped at the physical level. Andromeda was compassionate towards students in other Houses and pitied Muggle-borns. She had not bloomed as her eldest sister had done in potions and the dark arts. Despite the attempts to tutor her sister, Andromeda had progressed more into a disappointment after Bellatrix saw her kissing a half blood Hugglepuff. She never told her parents but the information was constantly used as blackmail against her._

_"Coming Cissy? I'll give you some peppermints."_

_"Bel-la," the youngest pouted "you ate all YOUR peppermints already."_

_This was true; their mother had treated them to a bag each this morning. Bellatrix greedily ate them while Narcissa put hers somewhere away from prying eyes. She enjoyed savouring the hard candy, often they lasted for a few days. Narcissa knew how much her eldest sister loved the freshness on her tongue. Sometimes they'd have competitions as to who could keep them in their mouth for longest. The blonde usually won. Bellatrix would often take Andromeda's candy when she finished her own bag but never Narcissa's. _

_"Come on Bella, just one game of Quidditch, please? Cissy can use my old broom, it's totally safe."_

_Bellatrix looked out over the backyard. It had been a terribly long winter and she ached to feel the grass against her legs and the warmth of the sun on her skin._

_"Okay, one game. But you have to show Cissy the basics."_

_The younger girls squealed in delight and ran off to get the brooms. Bellatrix took off her new shoes and placed them beside the door. She knew that if they got dirty her father would punish her._

_The sisters returned and the two eldest showed Narcissa how to summon the broomstick and techniques to steer. After a few touch-and-go laps the three mounted their brooms together and began their game. Bellatrix had insisted Narcissa be on her team, leaving Andromeda to be goal keeper and shooter by herself. _

_The eldest sister couldn't stop giggling along with the fair haired girl. Golden shoulder length hair flowed gracefully in the breeze and her laughter was contagious as she quickly learned some shooting techniques of her own, surprising both sisters. _

_Andromeda was fiercely competitive when it came to sports and didn't care much for the newbie's fast learning curve. The quaffle was in her possession and as she threw it towards the two trees that served as a goal it clipped Narcissa's broom, sending her into the wet earth. The front of her dress was covered in mud. She looked up at the hovering girls; the expression on her sisters' faces said it all. Tears welled in her eyes, she knew once their mother found out she would send her to their father's study._

_"Dromeda! Look what you did!" Bellatrix was wild. She knew something like this was bound to happen. _

_"It's her fault! She didn't catch the stupid ball!"_

_"Well, maybe YOU didn't throw it properly." Bellatrix levelled with her doppelgänger before colliding brooms._

_"Bella!" The middle child managed to balance herself before her sister struck at her again._

_"Come on Andromeda, why don't you join Cissy in the mud? Then father can finally see that your exterior mirrors your insides. Filth!" _

_Andromeda's face drained of colour. She knew that her sister would not keep what happened back at school to herself forever. If she wanted to see the boy again, her parents were not to find out before the year resumed. _

_"Whatever, Bella. If you're so smart, sort it out yourself!" She zoomed off, leaving her sisters._

_"Bella…" tears tracked Narcissa's cheeks._

_She flew down to Narcissa and dismounted her broom. The mud with thick between her toes. They were always forced to wear correct attire everywhere they went but this, Bellatrix had never felt the ground on her bare feet before and she loved every second of it. To her, it felt like freedom. It felt like rebellion._

_ "Shh, Cissy. It'll be okay. Quickly, give me your dress."_

_The blonde looked at her quizzically but Bellatrix did not have the patience. She knew that Andromeda wouldn't tell their parents but they were bound to find out eventually. The eldest sister unlaced the ribbons that secured the dress and slipped it over Narcissa's head._

_"And the shoes, Cissy. Come now." _

_Narcissa did as she was told and took off her shoes. They were filthy._

_"You can wipe them down inside. Make sure no one sees you in the bathroom, not even the elves. If they say a word I'll cut out their tongues!"_

_Bellatrix took off her own dress and clothed her sister. The outfit was slightly too big but it would have to do. She fixed the blonde's hair with her own ribbon and ushered her to go inside._

_"No one must see you." _

_"Bella, what are you going to do?"_

_"Just go inside Cissy!" The dress was tight around her chest and hips but she managed to just squeeze it over her developing body. Bellatrix's mind was racing, she had never done something so against her parents before. For her entire childhood she was claustrophobic under the thumb of an authoritarian patriarch and now she felt that she had finally found a way to escape her constraints. _

_When the blonde had gone back into the house, Bellatrix sat down on the ground, clenching wet earth in her hands. She put a dirty handprint on her arm and then her face before rolling in the mud. She felt invigorated as the little yellow dress was stained a rich chocolate brown. She laughed as twigs caught in her curls and bits of dirt ground in her teeth. She had never felt so empowered._

O~O~O

Bellatrix stepped out of the door. Her lips curled into a smile as she remembered that moment where she first felt the freedom to be her own person. It was like a natural high as she walked down the corridor passing doors as she went. She knew this would break her but she needed to remember how the day ended. She had viewed this memory over a dozen times but had only seen the end twice.

The doorframe had seen better days. She touched the indentations in the wood, remembering when she would leave prematurely in fits of rage. Tonight she promised herself that she wouldn't hurt Narcissa. She would stay until the end. Bellatrix wasted no time; she knew no fear as she stepped through the door.

O~O~O

_Howls echoed throughout the house. A cracking noise was heard followed by more screams._

_Narcissa stood outside of her father's study, the door was slightly ajar and she watched her sister's punishment through horrified eyes. Muddy footprints led to their father's desk. He was a private man, his hair was blonde like Narcissa's and his eyes crazed like Bellatrix's would later become. His eldest child stood before him, chin raised, her orbs piercing his. Never had she challenged him like she did this day. He had used a cane across Bellatrix's knuckles but when she caught it he turned to magic to punish her._

_Cygnus was a cruel father. He was disgraced and disappointed that he had three daughters and no sons to carry on the Black name. Above all, his expectations were too high for Bellatrix to reach. She had exceeded so far in her education, well beyond her peers, but she would never be good enough. The first born was always supposed to be a male in the Black bloodline but their mother had not done the honourable duty of discarding the child. Instead, she insisted that they keep her and Cygnus grew resentful. As years went on, they had two more girls and he came to terms that they would never have an heir. He loved Bellatrix, he just loathed that she was not the son he wanted._

_Bellatrix's body contorted on the ground and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Narcissa let out a faint gasp. She had seen her father do this to Muggles. They quickly begged for death and she worried that her sister would do the same. _

_A tender hand guided Narcissa away from the study door before closing it. Her mother stood above her, forcing her tears not to break their banks._

_"Let this be a lesson to you too, Narcissa. You are better than this. You are a Black and you will begin acting like one. Do you understand?"_

_"Yes, Mama." _

_"Good. Run along now, if your father caught you snooping around…"_

_The blonde didn't need any further encouragement and turned to go upstairs to her room._

_"Narcissa? That dress…it's Bellatrix's isn't it."_

_She hesitated before nodding her head and ran upstairs._

_Her room was modestly decorated, everything neurotically in its place. She had been taught to keep her space clean as her father would sometimes make a surprise inspection. Narcissa had left the door open so that she would see Bellatrix._

_After a short time, her mother appeared, assisting her firstborn up the stairs and assisting her to her room. Bellatrix could barely carry herself under her own weight and her feet dragged across the ground. When Narcissa saw her retreat back downstairs she grabbed her mosaic jewellery box and tiptoed into the adjacent room. _

_"Bella?" _

_Her sister was unresponsive; she was lying in her bed, naked face down in her pillows. Her mother had removed the muddy dress but her hair was still littered with natural debris. _

_"Bella, it's me, Cissy."_

_Narcissa crept towards the bed. She had never seen the girl so pale. The eldest sister made a muffled reply in her pillow and Narcissa took this as a sign that she was welcome._

_"Bella? Can you look at me please? I brought you some peppermints."_

_She was scared at what she would see as Bellatrix raised her head. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks were puffy from crying. Her face had suffered some bruising but nothing more than their father's usual beatings. She looked exhausted._

_"What did he do to you?" she cried. Hugging her sister tightly. Bellatrix allowed the comfort and wrapped her arms around Narcissa._

_"It's all my fault, Bella. I'm sorry I put you in this mess."_

_Bellatrix inhaled the lavender scented skin, holding her sister close. She was furious but not at her. She could never been angry at her Narcissa. She couldn't believe Andromeda had abandoned them and not received any punishment. Her fingernails dug into her sister's shoulder blades, her voice too hoarse to express words._

_"I'm sorry Bella. I'm sorry."_

_Bellatrix's nails dug deeper. She couldn't express her condolences for Narcissa. The anger and frustration consumed her as she remembered the moment when her father substituted the cane for the cruciatus curse. It was she who was truly sorry. _

_"I love you Bella. I'm sorry." She repeated like a mantra, kissing her swollen face. _

_Narcissa fumbled for the jewellery box, crying aloud as Bellatrix broke through and warm blood trickled down her ivory skin. The blonde took out a peppermint and placed it in her sister's mouth. The reaction was almost instantaneous. Bellatrix rolled the hard candy over her tongue and eased her grip before lying back on the bed._

_"Bella?" came a sob "Do you still love me Bella?"_

_The dark haired girl reached out, letting the girl nestle against her exposed breasts._

_"I will always love you Cissy." _

O~O~O

Bellatrix exited the door and passed by the memories where Narcissa had reached into her jewellery box for her. It had become ritual. It calmed her. It allowed her to hold onto what little sanity she had while in Azkaban. She didn't know if it was peppermint itself or if it was a trigger from her forgotten childhood but when Narcissa gave her one it was if her mind became clear. It brought her back to the day she swapped dresses with her sister after a game of Quidditch and rolled in the mud. The one moment she remembered that she truly felt alive. All thanks to her Narcissa.


	8. Chapter 8

Hello beautiful people! My absence has been somewhat long and unfortunately I will be missing for about another two and a half weeks. Yes, that's right. It's exam period in Australia! I had one today and there's another three to come (including a semester essay I'm yet to write *faints*). This chapter was going to be twice as long but I simply don't have the time right now. I will grace you with words after uni finishes. Wooooooo! So keen for my three month summer holiday! Be patient please, more to come sometime after Nov 16th.

* * *

Chapter Eight

Christmas decorations lined the interior of the expansive dining hall; the contrast of the festive lighting was somewhat incongruous against the sombre ambience. To an outsider, the grandeur of the room, capable of entertaining over eighty guests, would appear unsuitable to house only the three figures for supper. However, rarely was there more unless a party was being held. At the head of the table sat a pale wizard. His eyes were downcast, rolling a boiled potato around his plate like a carousel - too young to be forced into the shoes of his father – too proud to admit that he was scared.

"Draco,"

He looked up, his eyes sweeping over the length of the dining table. The boy met the warm eyes of his mother. Narcissa sat erect, her hair swept off her face in a neat updo. She was so pleased that her son was finally home. He had grown more into a man but intuition told her that he had been troubled with the Dark Lord's requests. The woman had felt guilty that the family did not meet Draco at Kings Cross Station this year. With Lucius in prison, Narcissa was burdened by society's incessant whispers. She chose to stay at the mansion and wait for her only child to return; he was old enough to understand. The Malfoy name did not want further attention from snooping tabloids. Narcissa needed Lucius. Yes, they had grown apart since his failure at the Ministry but a pureblood without her husband? Scandalous. They needed each other, deemed to live in a loveless marriage for the sake of status - just as it has always been.

"don't play with your food dear."

A screeching of silver on china stabbed their eardrums and heads turned to face the third occupant. Bellatrix was drunk off mead, leaning with her elbows on the table, food uneaten. Her salmon had been diced into mangled pieces and a capital _M _was carved deep into the sides of her vegetables. She was becoming increasingly impatient. Bellatrix had found out about Draco's failings with the bewitched necklace. She had punished him for his idiocy. It was a cheap attempt to fulfil the Dark Lord's bidding and it had come at the cost of media attention, suspicion and the Mudblood. At first, the Death Eater had accepted delayed gratification – her new toy would soon make up for lost time. But when the holidays arose and the girl had not come crawling back, Bellatrix began calling for her like a bitch in heat. Oh how she would punish that frizzy haired Gryffindor for her insolence.

"Remind me again why _she _is here." Draco called out across the room.

"_She _is your Aunt Bellatrix and need I remind you, Draco, that you will show respect to your family." Narcissa's voice laced with authority, pandering to her sister's unruly temper.

"I love my Aunty Bella," the Malfoy heir sang sarcastically "if she would just stop getting pissed and bugger off."

A heavy chair scrapped across floorboards and within seconds a crooked wand was mere inches away from the boy's nose. Dark orbs stared down at the blonde, her other hand delicately cradling crystal.

"My, my dear nephew, such a potty mouth you have. Surely, you did not learn that from _our _side of the family." The raven haired witch smirked at her kin. Her words were surprisingly eloquent despite the amount of liquor consumed. Bellatrix rolled her head back, looking at her sister from over her shoulder. Narcissa had drawn her wand, ready to defend her son.

"If you're suggesting my father…"

Bellatrix snapped her attention back to her nephew who was speaking through clenched teeth. Over the course of his life, Draco had grown used to this love-hate conflict with his Aunt. He looked up to her; she was his master's right hand servant – both feared and respected – everything he wanted to become. But he despised that she held such contempt for his father.

"Your father is a piece of shit! He has failed the Dark Lord, Draco. The sooner you see this the better." She hissed back.

"I will redeem him. All will be forgiven." He said coldly.

"What makes you so sure you will succeed, sweetie? Do you honestly think you have what it takes? You stand here with your tail in between your legs. You reek of fear."

"I've been chosen!"

"You are far from ready, Draco. Pack your things, you will leave tonight."

"Bellatrix." Narcissa had stood up but her sister cast her a dark look.

"Hush, Cissy. If your brat is so eager to get back into his routine then there is no time like the present."

"Be reasonable Bella, Severus will not want unexpected guests at this time."

"That slippery snake will do as I ..."

A colourless jet hit Bellatrix in the chest at close range. She stumbled back before regaining her balance, alcohol undisturbed. A low cackle sounded from her painted lips as she turned to her attacker.

"What is your worth, dear nephew, when you cannot even perform a simple cruciatus curse? Your heart is not in it, admit it! I'll tell you the same thing I told Potter – you have to mean it, you have to want to enjoy inflicting pain. You have no strength and for that, you're just as pathetic as him."

Bellatrix cast a blue jet towards the boy, purposely hitting the ground at his feet so he would jump.

"Let's have some fun then shall we. A duel? You win, you are ready. I win, you leave tonight and not come back until you are."

"You will not talk to my son like this under _my _roof Bellatrix."

The dark witch nodded approvingly as Draco magically pushed furniture to the walls, clearing a wide space for their arena. Narcissa rolled her eyes and stood to the side.

"If you would be so kind to act as mediator, sister." The last word dripping with satisfaction.

The woman paced across the room, glaring at Bellatrix who fluttered her eyelids back at her. Narcissa faced her son and placed her hands on his shoulders.

"You don't have to do this Draco." She said softly so the other woman wouldn't hear. "This is your home. Stay, for me." He couldn't meet her gaze. Draco wanted to stay more than anything. The manor was a temporary haven from the business of Death Eaters and all he wanted was some space to breathe.

"Draco! Don't get mummy to fight your battles!" Bellatrix's manic laughter resonated around the room.

The boy curled his fists into balls and stepped away from his mother and towards his deranged aunt. Bellatrix was waiting expectantly; wand poised, drinking from her refilled glass.

"Ladies first, Aunty." The contemptuous words rolled off his tongue.

"Such chivalry, you surely didn't learn _that_ from your father."

"Stupefy!" He roared.

Bellatrix blocked the foreseen jinx and countered with a spell of her own. Back and forth they exchanged streams of coloured jets and the witch boasted her skills by drinking mid-battle, further angering her nephew. All Narcissa could do was watch on, silently cheering her son as he deflected the curses. She knew that her sister was toying with him. If she wanted to, she could have stunned Draco with her first strike but the blonde knew all too well how Bellatrix played. She had taught Narcissa herself how to construct a wall of security, providing a false sense of hope before watching their victims squirm as they dismantle it brick by brick.

Bellatrix finished her drink and threw the glass towards her nephew. For a second Draco hesitated, caught by surprise but this was all the dark haired witch needed. Pointing her wand at the rotating glass, it transfigured into a crystal serpent and bound itself around the boy's chest and arms. Draco fell to his knees as sharp splinters tore at his jacket as the snake constricted his lungs. Whimpers echoed off the walls as his face whitened.

"Say 'uncle'" Bellatrix cooed, her wand forcing the transparent serpent to tighten its hold.

"Bellatrix, that's enough!" insisted the younger sister.

The click of Bellatrix's heels sounded as she made her way over to Draco, ignoring Narcissa completely. She playfully sat down beside the paling body that now was hyperventilating, his breathing shallow from the binding of his chest. The witch stroked the crystal serpent, a triumphant sneer spreading across her face.

"Where does the Weasley boy live?" She whispered.

Draco's lips were beginning to turn a shade of blue, his face full of confusion.

"Tell me!"

The serpent shattered, shards of glass spraying across the floor. Draco fell to his side, hungrily gulping oxygen into his lungs. Tears streamed his cheeks and stung where glass had cut his flawless skin. Leaving his side, Bellatrix stood up and met Narcissa's stare. The blonde's wand was still poised after she had cast the spell to free Draco. She was furious at her sister, this had been taken too far.

"Does this mean I won?" Bellatrix folded her arms smugly.

"Get out." She extended her hand to the door.

Bellatrix turned to Draco who had managed to support his weight again. "You heard your mummy. Get out."

"Not _him_ Bellatrix!" Her wand was now pointed at her sister's chest.

The raven witch smirked as she closed the distance between them. Narcissa ignored Bellatrix's hand on the small of her back, not wanting to draw the attention of her son.

"Now, now Cissy." She purred "There's no need to be so hostile. You know you don't want to fight me. Not after such a _pleasurable_ day we've spent together." Her breath was hot and sweet from the mead. "Rules are rules aren't they?"

Narcissa stood strong, not allowing the tears to well in her eyes at the thought of her child leaving prematurely.

"Go pack his things like the good mother you are. Let me clean up the boy."

"If you so much hurt him again, I swear."

Bellatrix yawned and shoved her sister away, turning her back on her. The crunch of glass under heels sounded then died as Narcissa left the dining hall.

"Now, Draco, tell me where the Weasley boy lives."

The boy was now sitting up, pieces of glass prickled one side of his face.

"Why the sudden interest?" He spat, his pride hurt from defeat.

"You are not entitled to question me, _dear_ nephew. Last chance, I'll ask one more time, where can I find the blood traitors?"

Draco ran his hand through his platinum blonde hair. He had overhead the Gryffindor trio countless times during classes where they spent their winter vacations.

"Somewhere called 'The Burrow'. Satisfied?"

"You're such a good boy." She patronised, pinching his cheeks. "But not yet. You're still here. I want you gone within the hour. Go comfort your mother; I'm sure she's _heartbroken_."

And with that, Bellatrix disapparated in a cloud of blackness.

O~O~O

Narcissa sat at the dining room table. She had dismissed the house elves and insisted that she rearrange the furniture herself. In her hand was an artichoke heart engraved with the letter _M_. The vegetable had grown cold in her hands but the witch didn't care. Despite that Bellatrix and Draco had their differences, Narcissa knew there was an exterior motive to the conflict that evening. Her sister had been restless for days, more so than usual and her outbursts had disturbed the peace of the holiday season.

A popping noise disrupted Narcissa's thoughts. From across the room Bellatrix apparated and made her way over to the liquor cabinet.

"Is he gone?" Came a blasé drawl. Bellatrix strode towards her sister, a quarter of her glass full of dark intoxicants. Her mind was racing, excited over what she had just done.

Narcissa stood to greet her sister but rejected the embrace and instead opened her hand to show Bellatrix the engraved artichoke heart.

The eldest raised an eyebrow over the crystal. "Don't be so barbaric, Cissy. Mother always said not to play with your food." She chuckled as she sipped the fiery liquid.

"Since you cannot take your own advice maybe you can explain _this _to me Bella." The blonde held up the unmistakable lettering. "Don't tell me you sent away my son because you want to play with a Mudblood."

Bellatrix gripped her sister's wrist tightly until she dropped the vegetable. "You're not jealous are you, Cissy?" The raven haired witch brought the strangled hand to her lips and licked the length of Narcissa's palm. It was bitter tasting and did not mix well with the warm flavours of the alcohol.

The youngest Black suppressed a silent longing and freed her hand. She wasn't jealous. How could she possibly be jealous over a Mudblood? Narcissa's suspicions were now confirmed. The Granger girl was responsible for her sister's restlessness. While the Mudblood was on her sister's mind, all Narcissa wanted to do was forget. But forget she could not, not when her right hand was a sickly reminder of that night back in Spinner's End.

Bellatrix was quick to replace one body part for another and gripped Narcissa's waist; forcing her backwards as if dancing a forbidden tango.

"So it's true. This wasn't because he is Lucius' son or that Draco will never be ready for the Dark Lord. You would rather that Mudblood here. In my home." Narcissa's voice was chilling as the woman backed her into the wall.

"Are you fucking stupid, Cissy? She has to return, you said so yourself. Do you want Draco to find out your dirty little secret?" Bellatrix began to pull at the blonde's clothes, primal desires flooding her mind.

"Everyone must be kept in the dark about this, Bella." Narcissa warned, running her fingers through those thick ringlets before pulling harshly at inked curls.

The older woman bit down on her clavicle in reply, causing the blonde to gasp aloud. "No one will know." Her tongue pressed against the throbbing pulse point, feeling the rhythm quicken. Narcissa's eyes closed as the other witch's lips moved higher.

"I can't stay, Cissy." She hushed against her ear.

"Don't tease me, Bella. Stay, this house is far too empty tonight." Fingers clung to the leather corset, pulling the woman closer so she too could taste the liquid fire.

A popping noise sounded from behind the women and Bellatrix casually turned her head, not letting go of the blonde. Fenrir Greyback stood in the middle of the room, a perverted smile running over his face as he eyed the two women. Narcissa transformed before her sister. She stood taller, her eyes darkened and an icy exoskeleton replaced cordiality.

"What is he doing here? Your dim-witted dwarfs cannot follow you around wherever they please like Snow White."

Bellatrix stepped away from Narcissa, clearly frustrated from the disturbance.

"You will have to get used our presence sooner or later, Cissy. The Dark Lord has chosen your humble home as a place of gathering."

If it wasn't for Greyback, Narcissa would have voiced her displeasure. But at the risk of being labelled 'disloyal' she instead chose to play passive aggressive.

"Next time werewolf, you will use the front door like a good little lapdog. Who knows where your soiled paws have been."

"My apologies, Lady Malfoy." Greyback growled, bowing his head with faux courtesy.

Bellatrix was careful to note the disrespect shown towards her sister and now spoke directly to her.

"I was told where they holiday, Cissy and the mutt knows the exact location. I have given that bitch a long enough leash; it's time to shorten it."

"You said that this would remain solely _our_ business. No third parties." Narcissa glared at the werewolf, her superior demeanour never faltering.

"Do not jump to such rash conclusions." Bellatrix caressed the side of the blonde's face with the back of her hand. "He has unfinished business to tend to with a certain member of the Order. While you and Draco were having a heart-to-heart, I left for Greyback's company. It seems that we have something in common after all – a love for fire."

* * *

Curious to know what people think of Bella and Cissy's suggestive relationship so far.

It's been a while since I wrote with Hermione. I've planned out what I want to write next and she will be there. You can imagine how drained she must be without Bella's pain relief…and * spoilers*…how furious Bella will be when she realises her Muddy isn't where she thinks she is ;)

It is midnight and sleep calls. As always, thank you to everyone!


	9. Chapter 9

It seems that I'd much rather write fanfic than an essay on neoliberalism xD As you may or may not be aware the description of the story has changed to include Bella/Cissy. I thought I'd only leave their relationship 'subtle' but…meh. Perhaps I can accommodate some suggestions (don't use the word "sister" etc) but if you're not a fan, spare the hate and sorry to see you go. (Seriously though, what can you expect from Pure-bloods? They think they're too good for anyone but themselves. We've seen many examples in muggle royal history).

* * *

Chapter Nine

_Muddy, come back to me, Muddy._

It was the soundtrack to her delirium. A voice she could not silence. She was a marionette to the darkness that seeped into her every nerve, manipulating strings like a puppeteer. It was only the fourth day into the holidays but with each sunset and sunrise the callings were growing louder, more insistent and Hermione suffered the consequences. There was something masochistic about this waiting game. Bellatrix's ringing words were laced with a tenderness Hermione never imagined the Death Eater could emit - which made tearing at her flesh even more sinister as the siren song replayed.

_Come back to me._

When her frantic mother clipped her nails during the night, Hermione substituted claws for anything else she could find. Nothing brought relief, which is why she was here. Outside curly, iron gates, the very same she was escorted out of all those weeks ago. Although this time, Hermione was not on her feet. Melted snow lapped at her knees, numbing her skin beneath layers of clothing. Dirt from the pebbled ground marked her jeans and a chilling bite in the air kissed her lips blue. Hermione's hands were red raw from shaking the gate, voice hoarse, screaming for someone, anyone to let her in. Her shoulders ached; how long she had been out there she did not know. The icy metal stuck to her skin and she made the mistake of resting her cheek against the cold bars, twice. Magic could not penetrate the immovable fortress nor could she apparate beyond it.

_Stupid, how could you be so stupid, Hermione!_

She blamed herself for not coming sooner. But what else was she to do? She needed to see her parents; she wasn't sure if or when they would meet again. To leave the warmth of her childhood home and the surrounds of relatives who took an interest in her was almost too resisting. How she had missed it all. However, the callings were driving her mad and to be anywhere but in the clutches of Bellatrix LeStrange promised further torment. She could not enjoy her time at home any longer and had composed an elaborate excuse to leave before Christmas, much to her parent's dismay. Now she was on her knees in the dark, her body quaking from heavy sobs with thick snot dripping from her nose.

From a third story window, a figure looked down upon the girl, shadowed by half drawn curtains. Narcissa had been watching Hermione for some time. It was a pathetic sight, seeing the girl reach for the front door through iron gates. Nevertheless, she couldn't bring herself away. There was something satisfying about watching the girl struggle against the elements. The Mudblood, who had brought her so much misery, was beginning to suffer.

"Mistress?"

Narcissa did not draw her eyes away from the window. Instead, she silently drowned out her irritation with a sip of herbal tea. She was wrong about needing Bellatrix tonight, the solitude had calmed her. Frankly, the younger sister had still not forgiven the Death Eater for her actions at dinner. And now that Bellatrix was fruitlessly searching for the Mudblood, Narcissa couldn't wait until her sister returned empty handed.

"I do not remember asking you to speak."

"L-Lutin is sorry, Mistress." The house elf proceeded to beat himself for his insolence.

"When I finish my tea you may let her in."

Narcissa stood unmoving, savouring the hot liquid as it warmed her body. It was half for the girl's own good. She knew very well how Bellatrix would react when she found out that the Mudblood had come crawling back whilst she spent the night seeking her. At least if the brunette appeared to have been punished, Bellatrix would not beat her within an inch of her life. Or so Narcissa hoped. Bellatrix had arranged for this relationship between her and the Mudblood to be something more than what it was. If she wanted the girl to hurt, the Death Eater would need to learn how to spare the whip.

"You will run her a bath." The woman toyed with a wicked thought. "Lavender."

The blonde handed the cup and saucer to the house elf and walked out of the room without another word. Lutin waited until his Mistress was completely out of sight before snapping his fingers. A metallic 'click' sounded from below and the doors of the gate slowly opened. He dared to look on at the weak girl who was crawling on her hands and knees up the pathway. A pang of sadness stabbed at his chest as he watched the brunette struggle under the redness of her palms and the numbness of her legs – the only witch ever to have shown him kindness.

The pebbled path seemed to go on forever. Head down, Hermione opted to crawl on the balls of her palms to minimise the pain. She prayed that when she got there that the Death Eater would be in a forgiving mood tonight. Unlikely but she wished nonetheless.

A marble step was cool to the touch and Hermione realised that she had made it to the foot of the manor. She inhaled deeply, the chilly air spearing her lungs. Before she could muster the strength to knock on the door it opened inwards. Hermione stared at the pair of heels in front of her; they were not Bellatrix's signature boots. Her heart skipped as her eyes trailed up long legs and met those of Narcissa.

"Good evening, Miss Granger."

The blonde extended her hand and with great difficultly, Hermione supported herself to her feet. She wobbled like a newborn foal but the woman linked arms with hers and escorted her inside. Already Hermione felt the heat of the house defrosting her soaked skin. Or was it the heat from Narcissa's touch? She couldn't say for sure but in any case, she allowed herself to be led to a sitting room and gratefully welcomed a leather sofa. Narcissa lit a fire in its alcove with her wand and produced two glasses, each with a nip of firewhisky.

"Drink this," she handed one to Hermione "it will warm you faster than any fire."

Hermione eyed the dark intoxicants and looked around the room, expecting Bellatrix to materialise from the shadows.

Narcissa noticed the brunette's anxiety and drank to reassure her.

"It is quite alright, Miss Granger. My sister has chosen this evening to go off on an excursion."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and thanked the woman, bringing the alcohol to her lips. Her first reaction was to gag. The liquid seared her tongue and throat. Her eyes were watering but she managed to swallow what was in her mouth.

"Firewhisky is strong but one does get accustomed to the taste." Narcissa smiled, sipping at her own.

The brunette's heart thudded against her ribcage. Did Narcissa Malfoy just smile at her? Hermione blushed into her glass, smelling rather than tasting the drink. Her insides felt cosy, winter's kiss long since faded.

"I was beginning to wonder when you would return," Narcissa continued "I believe you have gone and done the exact opposite of what I recommended and kept her waiting."

She buried her contempt, deep inside where Hermione could not detect it. Placing the crystal to one side, the blonde took the girl's hands and healed them with her wand and did the same to her cheek. With a hint of concern, Narcissa turned Hermione's chin and pushed back her hair that matted with both dry and oozing blood.

"I cannot do anything for this." Withdrawing her hand before the girl could lean into her.

She insisted that it was the change in temperature but Hermione already felt slightly light headed. Narcissa's words were unusually gentle towards her and she savoured this rare moment.

"I wanted to see my parents." She admitted, her voice still hoarse.

Narcissa looked at the girl, examining her face. There was something about her bone structure that reminded her of someone else but in a moment she snapped back into reality.

"I do not know if you are wise, Miss Granger, or foolish. However, you must be tired. I have sent the elves to run you a bath. It should relieve some discomfort until my sister returns. You will find robes and towels in the bathroom. We shall speak more later."

With a click of the woman's fingers, Lutin appeared, bowing humbly. Hermione recognised the elf and greeted him with a smile.

"The house elf will assist you to the second floor. If you will excuse me, I have matters to attend to."

"Madame Malfoy,"

Narcissa stopped and turned back to Hermione.

"Thank you."

She nodded in reply and left the room. Hermione could feel her cheeks redden as she stared after the woman.

"If Miss Granger would follow Lutin." The house elf bowed.

Hermione collected her thoughts but all she could think of was Narcissa.

"You can call me Hermione." She said, giving the elf a reassuring look.

Lutin's eyes widened in horror.

"House elves are not to address witches or wizards by their first name, Miss Granger. If Mistress only knew…" He began to hit his head against the floorboards.

"Lutin, please don't hurt yourself. I would like to go upstairs now, please." The girl was genuinely sorry and stopped the elf from inflicting further pain upon himself. She was suddenly aware how tired she was.

"Lutin will help Miss Granger." He was happy for the change of topic and assisted Hermione up the flight of stairs to the bathroom.

When Hermione opened the door her senses were hit with aromatics. A knot tightened in her stomach as she recollected the first Potions class of the semester and remembered the lavender she detected in the Amortentia. Soon after Lutin explained which soaps and lotions she could use, he disapparted. Hermione undressed, the steaming water liberating movement in her limbs once again. She submerged herself in the scented bathwater, allowing the liquid to cleanse her body. The water remained a constant temperature and Hermione felt herself dozing off as she thought of Narcissa.

O~O~O

The front door slammed shut, making the walls of the manor reverberate. Bellatrix paced across the entrance hall to the dining room where she hoped to find Narcissa. The evening had not gone as she expected. She was so sure the Mudblood would be with the Weasley boy. The Death Eater duo had fought Potter and his friends in the dark and took it in turns to destroy the Order's safe house piece by piece until flames enveloped the Burrow. But the girl was nowhere to be found. Vehemence bubbled in the pit of her stomach as she yelled her sister's name. The double doors were nearly thrown off their hinges as she magically forced them open. The dining hall was empty.

"Cissa! Come greet your beloved sister!"

The women folded her arms and stood in expectance. When no one came she prowled the first floor of the manor. With each unoccupied room she exited she grew ever more vexed.

"Cissy, I know you're here. Don't make me play hide and seek, you won't like it when I win."

Bellatrix took the marbled staircase one step at a time, listening for movement, giving her sister that chance to come forward. As she crossed the landing, Bellatrix stopped outside the bathroom, the smell of lavender overtaking her senses.

_You make this too easy for me Cissy. _A devilish smile contorted the corners of her lips.

Silently she unlocked the door and pushed it just enough so she could peer around it. The raven haired witch froze at the sight of brown curls cascading over the rim of the bath, water puddling on the tiles beneath them. Bellatrix unhitched her wand from its holster, possessiveness replacing frustration.

_Oh bravo, Narcissa. The one night I chose not to fuck you and you whore yourself out. Is she younger? Prettier? Well, she won't be for much longer. _

Bellatrix closed the door behind her as she entered the chamber, careful not to disturb the naked figure in the tub. She had her ways of going undetected. As she crept closer, she readied her wand to kill but as she reached the bath a wave of disbelief washed over her.

_Impossible. _

Curious eyes swept over a lacerated neck.

_The Mudblood. _

Bellatrix stored her wand away and took a seat on a bath stool behind Hermione's head. She watched the girl in silence, taking joy as she scratched in her sleep. Blood tainted the scented water. The woman gazed over the brunette's body. Hermione's breasts were half submerged, pink nipples dipping in and out of the water with every breath. Bellatrix cocked an eyebrow at the mess of black pubic hair and wondered if the Gryffindor had ever lain beside another or if all Mudbloods were this untidy. She rarely pursued those that were below her but the girl had found a loophole into their elitist world. Even something as important as blood status never had deterred Bellatrix from getting what she wanted.

"Mm,"

The woman leaned forward and listened to her as she stirred.

"Narcissa."

Bellatrix recoiled at the sound of her younger sister's name. Taking a hold of the girl's face, she plunged her under the water.

Hermione's eyes shot open as she struggled to comprehend what was happening. Her body flailed as she fought against the weight that held her down. As she attempted to scream, water gushed into her lungs. Panic set in. She was desperate to reach the surface. After a few more moments, Hermione was hoisted up by her hair. Her first breath of precious oxygen seared her chest as it replaced the water. She felt like she was going to be sick.

"Muddy, come back to me, Muddy."

Bellatrix sang, her dark orbs elated as she watched the Mudblood splutter a mixture of water and bile down her front. The dress sleeves of the witch were soaked through and clung to her sinewed limbs.

"It's been a while, Muddy. Too busy fucking yourself over my sister to answer me?"

She thrust Hermione back into the bath, twisting her hair as she forced her head under.

Hermione coughed as she rose again, tears streaming down her face.

"I call for you to come back to relieve your suffering. And you ignore it. Ungrateful little Mudblood."

"I came back."

"What was that, Mudblood?"

"I came back!" She croaked, her body trembling.

"You dare talk back to me!" the sadist involuntarily parted her lips as she watched the convulsing body. She hated Gryffindors. This was not the first lioness that had used courage as a last line of defence. But by Merlin did they make a battle that much more interesting.

"I had to go and look for you, Muddy. At the 'Burrow'."

Hermione stilled in fear, desperate for the witch to continue.

"What a dump. Your Weasley boyfriend will thank me that I gave his blood traitor family incentive to rebuild it."

She chuckled as she released her hold of Hermione.

"What did you do to them!" The brunette felt numb. The worst case scenarios eating away at her imagination.

"When I said everything will be your fault, everything will all be thanks to you; it wasn't in jest, Muddy. I keep my promises." The witch dug her nails into the younger's temples. Hermione felt like her head was about to explode from pressure as the toxins left her body.

Hermione could feel the woman's eyes on her even as she covered her nakedness with her hands. Her face reddened with humiliation.

"No amount of soap can wash away the dirt in your veins."

Bellatrix removed her fingers and left Hermione trembling in the bath without turning back.

O~O~O

Narcissa sat in the third story study, handwriting a letter with a snow white quill. Her penmanship was flawless, her calligraphy written in an elegant italic. A dripping hand did not faze her as it placed itself on her shoulder. She smiled contently to herself, showing little interest in the water droplets running down her back.

"Already gone for your bath have you Bella?" She said calmly, dipping the feather in its inkpot and continued with her work.

"Not quite." The dark haired witch retaliated sarcastically.

"Not quite? Not quite what you expected, you mean?"

Bellatrix tightened her grip, watching as ink formed beautifully crafted words onto parchment.

"Good game, Cissy. I could have killed her and then where would Draco be? He might as well take his own life."

"Really Bella, you are far too predictable." The blonde played with her sister's temper. This was her payback for earlier - for hurting her son, for leaving her alone.

The Death Eater reached over Narcissa and tipped over the inkpot. Together they watched the black liquid spill over the desk, the parchment soaking up unwritten words.

"Now we are even. After all, I healed the Mudblood, kind of."

The younger sister rolled her eyes, her inner-perfectionist screaming at the spoiled work.

"Kind of?"

Bellatrix walked around and straddled Narcissa, grinding herself against her legs.

"Well, no one is perfect are they?" She teased, scraping her teeth along the blonde's jugular. "Did you two have fun together? Did she confess how much she wants to fuck you?"

Narcissa rhythmically moved in time with the woman on top of her. "Don't be disgusting, Bella. It is you who has seemed to have gotten wet over the Mudblood."

"Don't worry, Cissy, I'll let you have her first. After all, she is your butterfly to crush." She hummed, stealing a kiss; her tongue demanding entrance.

Narcissa fought for dominance, stopping her rocking which made the Death Eater growl.

"More like a caterpillar. Or the dirt under which they crawl."

Bellatrix squeezed the blonde's neck and invaded her mouth, tongues fighting against each other in a power play for control. Her fingers trailed down Narcissa's neck and massaged her breasts through the silken blouse.

"There's no reason to be so defensive," the eldest clucked, unclasping a laced bra, freeing Narcissa's breasts.

The blonde gasped as Bellatrix circled her nipple "I hate you."

"I know," the woman got up and pulled Narcissa with her, pushing her against the writing table "let me make it up to you."

Black ink stained ivory skin as Narcissa pulled her sister towards her, securing her in place with her legs. Practiced hands unlaced and removed the waist cincher corset that trained her sister's hourglass figure.

"Show me."

Bellatrix cupped Narcissa's breast in one hand, directing her back so she was sitting properly on the desk. Lips met once more and Narcissa allowed herself to succumb to the kiss, scraping her nails down the Death Eater's back. Bare nipples erected as they brushed against silk material. Without breaking the embrace, Bellatrix unbuttoned and opened the blouse exposing porcelain skin. Dipping her head, the woman took a swollen nipple in her mouth, flicking the bud with her tongue. She took her time to tease each one, a combination of biting and sucking that made Narcissa moan. Her hands caught in the thicket of curls, massaging her scalp, her body begging for more.

"You're so much whiter than her." The eldest ran her hand down the length of other's torso, her fingers slipping under the tailored skirt.

Narcissa yanked at dark curls harshly "If you bring up the Mudblood one more time…" her words trailed off as fingers slid over her slick slit and between wet folds..

"White is the colour of purity," the raven woman purred rubbing her clit. Narcissa bit her own lip, pushing her hips into the Death Eater's touch.

"And you are a Black," hands lifted the skirt, spreading the ink further across the desk. Dark liquid stained their skin and clothing, shadowing the carpet.

"Toujours pur." Bellatrix dipped her head and tasted the saltiness of Narcissa. Her tongue swept over the sensitive bud before scraping her teeth across thousands of micro-nerve endings.

Narcissa moaned aloud, Bellatrix's pink tongue sending her into bliss. She pulled at her own nipples, longing to be entered.

"You're a tease." She gasped as the Death Eater's tongue drove inside her, her breath rapidly becoming shallow. Narcissa, who was well regarded as an ice queen secretly melted at the forbidden touch of the most poisonous woman alive and Bellatrix knew those weaknesses, using them to her advantage to wring every last whimper from the prim and proper witch.

The walls of her sex were beginning to clamp down around Bellatrix's tongue. She was close. Licking her clit, the dark witch made eye contact with the quivering elite.

"B-Bella," Narcissa felt her hips buck into the woman's mouth, clinging onto inked curls. Their movements were fluid as she came. Eyes rolled back in ecstasy, back arched and legs wrapped tightly around the giver of gifts.

"Am I forgiven?" She smirked, tonguing at her clit, tasting every last orgasm as Narcissa begged for release.

"Y-yes,"

The eldest pulled the younger up in an embrace and the blonde could taste herself on her sister's lips. Narcissa's back was covered in ink that matched the furniture's newly accessorised black handprints. They stayed this way for several minutes exchanging tender caresses. Bare breasts against clothed, possessive arms wrapped around each other, neither willing to share with another in this moment.

"I don't hate you." Narcissa muffled into her neck.

"I know." She didn't have to say it. Bellatrix already knew. She has always known. If there was one thing certain in this world it was that Narcissa would always be hers.

O~O~O

"Lutin, please, let me out." Hermione pleaded. She was sitting by a windowsill in one of the Manor's many rooms. Her forehead rested against the frosty glass, legs curled up to her chest. She was still weak. Bellatrix had healed her just enough to stop her hallucinations but the pain in her neck had not subsided. She felt exhausted, desperate to hear news from Ron and Harry. Hermione had tried counter-charms and her own strength to free herself from the walls of the Manor. Running from door to door, window to window left her feeling drained. She should have known that the Death Eater wouldn't have allowed her to escape that easily.

The house elf stood beside her, conflicted.

"Miss Granger is a nice girl. Lutin wouldn't want harm to come to Miss Granger. But…Lutin must answer to the Malfoy family. Miss Granger must stay here."

"What do they want with me? What am I even doing here?"

Lutin watched as a single tear rolled down Hermione's cheek. He materialised a tissue for the girl to wipe her eyes.

"Miss Granger's soul is bound to Mistress'. If Miss Granger does not do the task of Master Draco Malfoy, many bad things will happen. Miss Granger must prepare."

"Prepare for what, Lutin?" Hermione turned to face him, searching for answers.

"That's quite enough, elf!" Bellatrix walked into the chamber, followed closely by her sister.

Lutin dropped to his knees and began beating himself against the floor, his forehead quickly turning a deep shade of purple. The Death Eater glared down at the self-harming house elf and fired a Cruciatus Curse at him.

"No! He didn't do anything!" Hermione cried, drawing her wand. "Expelliarmus!"

Bellatrix deflected the spell and dismissed the elf, turning her attention to Hermione. Narcissa looked over her sister's shoulder, horrified that a Mudblood, of all people, would dare to attack her family in her own home.

"Such cheek." Bellatrix spat, disarming Hermione. "Fetch that won't you Cissy."

Narcissa stepped out behind the Death Eater and picked up Hermione's wand, storing it in her dress pocket. Fresh robes concealed the inked patterns on her flesh.

"Silencio."

Hermione clutched at her throat. Her tongue had fixed itself to the roof of her mouth, rendering her to speak.

"If you valued your pathetic existence, Muddy, you will do as I say!" Bellatrix snickered as the girl looked at the blonde for support.

Narcissa placed a hand on her sister's waist and gave her a look that told her to cool down.

"Listen closely Miss Granger as I will only ask this once. Do you plan to carry out your side of the Vow? It is only your life at stake, you have only yourself to blame for this. We are giving you an opportunity to free yourself, a helping hand if you will. However, if you are having second thoughts my sister here is trained in assisted suicide."

Hermione, unable to speak nodded her head. The only thing driving her onwards was the opportunity to ask anything of Narcissa – her only way to help in the fight against Voldemort.

"At least you are sensible." The blonde flicked her wand and undid the silencing charm. "I suggest we maintain a level of civility as we will regrettably be seeing more of each other. The rules are not difficult to follow. If you are good, you will be treated well. If you are bad, you will get exactly what you deserve. Any questions?"

"What am I preparing for?"

Bellatrix rolled her eyes "I believe _that_ was rhetorical."

She grabbed Hermione's wrist and pulled her close, digging nails into flesh and breathing in scented hair. Narcissa looked on, unamused at the proximity between the two women. The Death Eater whispered into the brunette's ear, she could still taste sex on her tongue.

"All in good time, Muddy. I think that's enough for tonight. You haven't been very good lately so I have a special room for you."

Bellatrix laughed into the girl's ear, resisting her attempts to break free from her grasp.

Narcissa stood silently observing, hating the Mudblood more and more.

_Nothing that I have done deserves this. _

"Bella," the aristocrat was tired, spinning her wand through her fingers "it is too late to play. Show the girl where she will be sleeping. Tomorrow we'll continue discussing her _preparations_."

Bellatrix gave her a dark look, not liking to be instructed in front of anybody. Nevertheless she gave Hermione a shove and dragged her towards the door.

"Oh and Bella, for the love of Merlin do something about her neck won't you."

Hermione silently thanked Narcissa and proceeded to keep up with the hurrying Death Eater as she left the room and descended the stairs two at a time.


	10. Chapter 10

Dearie me, I never meant for such a delay. I completely lost all inspiration during and after exam period. Also! I found that I have a social life and have ventured outside on multiple occasions – it's all very exciting indeed xD This isn't the usual 3-4000w chapters you're used to but I hope that this short excerpt will wet my creative palette for the next update.

All my love to those in Japan who were hit by an earthquake and tsunami yesterday – as well as to those who suffered from Hurricane Sandy a few weeks ago. Stay cool this summer (and to those in the Northern hemisphere, go play in the snow! Embrace iiiiittt :D)

Thank you to everyone for your ongoing support. It is you who inspires me to update.

* * *

Chapter Ten

A shove down stairs.

A collision with stone floors.

A pulling of chestnut hair.

A whimper.

A manic cackle.

A slap against cheek bones.

A tearing of cloth.

An unforgiving curse.

A scream.

Laughter.

A sharpened blade.

Screams.

O~O~O

_Let it be over.  
_  
Her world was spinning. Hermione clung to the icy ground, spreadeagle, as if her life depended on it. Her broken fingernails dug into the cracks between each stone and she gnashed her molars together to be certain that the gag had been removed. Each new breath awakened the ache of bruised lungs. Lungs that had been used to beg for mercy – lungs that were constricted for the Death Eater's amusement.

With both eyes shut, she listened to her surroundings. For a while all Hermione could hear was the sound of her heart beating against her ribcage and her bones shivering on the cellar floor. It took time to realise that her body was numb because her back was naked. She groaned as she attempted to recollect the torturous encounter.

Bellatrix had not stripped her.

A foreign noise sounded at the furthest end of Hermione's prison. Her body became ridged as she held her breath. Opening her eyes, Hermione could see nothing. There were no windows and no light source. Again – she heard the sound. The hairs on her body stood on end and her heart hammered in her chest – there was someone else in the dark with her.

The noise was sickening – like wet rags beaten on stone. Once, twice, thrice the pattern repeated. Hermione shut her eyes. She didn't dare imagine who else or what else shared her quarters. A squelching sound indicated that the material was being wrung and footsteps soon followed. Whatever was in here, it was coming towards her.

"Miss Granger is awake?"

Hermione screamed. It was one that released built-up tension and made way for relief. Lutin's voice filled her with loneliness as she heaved mouthfuls of phlegm.

"Shh Miss Granger, shh. Miss Granger must dress or else she will catch a cold. Lutin has her shirt."

Hermione opened her eyes and reached out to the house elf's voice in the darkness and took the damp shirt from his fingers. Sitting up instantly made her light headed and she clutched at her upset stomach as she slipped it on. Although wet, it was warmer than the ground she had been laying on.

"Lutin, why are you…?"

"Shh. Mistress must not hear."

Hermione shivered as she lowered her voice.

"I can't see a thing. Do you have a light?" She whispered.

"Miss Granger will not wish to see," Lutin's words trembled as he spoke "Miss Granger must rest."

"Lutin, please. A lamp, a candle…anything."

"Miss Granger must rest." Desperate for Hermione to comply.

"Lutin!"

The house elf jumped at the ferocity coming from the witch. Not wanting to attract the attention of the women upstairs, he clicked his fingers and a dim flame emitted from the tips.

Hermione squinted her eyes as they adjusted to the light. She couldn't see beyond the solemn face of Lutin however was relieved to be able to see at all.

"Now, Miss Granger must rest." The elf pleaded.

Hermione nodded and looked down at her herself and gasped. Lutin snapped his fingers and the light extinguished instantly but he knew it was too late. She had seen it. He put his hand in hers and stayed there until she stopped hyperventilating.

"Lutin is sorry. Lutin tried but Lutin could not clean Miss Granger's clothes properly without Mistress knowing."

Hermione grasped her body as if to avoid her insides spilling out. She could feel her world spinning once again.

"It's alright, Miss Granger." The elf reassured "Lutin healed Miss Granger's deepest wound."

"Lutin…my shirt was white." Hermione sobbed. Her knees were up against her chest in a ball as she shook. "It was white."

O~O~O

The cries from the dungeon two floors below were now few and far between. Bellatrix obviously had her fun with the Mudblood, _perhaps a little too much_ Narcissa thought. She sat at her vanity table, silken robes draping off her shoulders. She observed the reddened marks on her body where she had scrubbed Japanese ink from her skin. They were ugly. Bruised and blotchy against pureblood flesh – the finest material as far as Narcissa was concerned. With wandless magic, the blemishes disappeared.

"There's a reason you're named 'Narcissa'" Bellatrix chimed. The dark witch had been resting against the doorframe, observing her sister silently as the blonde examined herself.

Narcissa rolled her eyes at Bellatrix's reflection in the mirror and adjusted her dressing gown. She had heard it all before. The one-liner was overused and played on her nerves. Picking up Hermione's wand, Narcissa twirled it in her fingers for the umpteenth time – vine wood, ten and three quarter inches. There was a familiarity to it, something that bemused her.

"Are we going to discuss the arrangements?" She said, ignoring Bellatrix's stare.

The Death Eater, still high after her torturous escapade, paid little attention to her sister's irritation. She skulked towards the dresser and picked up a comb, not taking her eyes off Narcissa.

"You've always been the pretty one" she whispered, running metallic teeth through honeyed hair.

"I know what you want and the answer is 'no', Bella." She was well acquainted with this faux tenderness.

"I don't need your permission," she hissed, pulling golden threads until Narcissa showed weakness. "I love it when you scream, Cissy." Bellatrix purred. "Now say my name."

"I'm sure the Mudblood did that enough." Ice found hollow orbs. Narcissa wasn't about to succumb to her sister's drunken desires.

Bellatrix grinned down at the blonde. Wrapping her hand over Narcissa's mouth, she traced full lips with her thumb

"Oh she did more than scream, Cissy. She begged. Begged and wept and fought and howled and bled."

"Enough, Bella."

"Enough?" Bellatrix grinned, dangerously bringing her wand up to Narcissa's neck - watching her pulse quicken as electricity emanated from its tip. "We're only just getting started."

Narcissa froze. She looked down at the wand in her hand and back at her sister.

Bellatrix looked on with curiosity at Narcissa who was rattling off names under her breath – the sadist standing in the background totally forgotten.

"Dragon heartstring" she whispered.

"What?"

"I knew the girl's wand felt familiar. Touch it." The blonde stood up and thrust the wand into her sister's hands.

Bellatrix examined it closely, testing its pliability and strength – aiming the wand at an antique vase and shattering it.

"Well?"

"Well nothing." The raven haired witch threw the wand back to Narcissa. She cocked an eyebrow as the younger continued to examine it. "Don't be a fool Cissy. If you are right it is merely a coincidence. She is a Mudblood."

"And if it's not a coincidence?"

"Why does it matter? It changes nothing."

"But the Dark Lord, he would show mercy. Draco would be out of harm's way."

"The Dark Lord would do no such thing, not even for you. You are blinded by lost hope, Cissy. Draco stands no chance unless the girl kills the old coot herself!"

"You will teach her, won't you Bella?"

"Why should I? You think I want to spend my time playing school with that brat?"

Narcissa rubbed her temples in frustration.

"I don't see the problem, Bella. You don't appear to be fazed by toying with mudbloods."

Bellatrix shot her a dark look.

"You will do this for me because I asked – because you promised you'd help Draco. I couldn't care less what you do with her. Just teach her the spells she needs to know."

"And what about you, Cissy? What are you to do while I do your dirty work? Are the cards still on the table? Will the Mudblood get what she wants?"

Narcissa's expression was cold. Every time she felt a pulse run through her arm she was reminded why she couldn't strike the Mudblood dead.

"These things take time."

"You've made men and women fall in love with you before. A horny pubescent should be a piece of cake."

"I don't need your advice, Bella. I have this under control. You just worry about yourself and what you have to do. Everything else will fall into place."

"Touch-y," Bellatrix sang, removing her corset that sat over her dress "I suppose you've given no thought to what you will do with the girl when the Dark Lord frequents the Manor?"

"On the contrary, dear sister. The letter you so kindly spoiled this evening was addressed to the Dark Lord himself. I anticipate his arrival. If the girl is to work closely with Death Eaters, their company must feel second nature."

"Well, well. You've just thought of everything haven't you." She spat, clearly vexed.

Narcissa gave Bellatrix an amused smile and handed her Hermione's wand.

"If you have plans tomorrow, cancel them. I'll leave the teaching methods up to you."

Bellatrix caught Narcissa's hand and dug her nails into her skin.

"And where are you going?"

Narcissa kissed the dark witch with painted lips and released herself from her grasp.

"I don't sleep with people who play with dirty toys."

* * *

Next update: duelling, a temptress, Voldemort


	11. Chapter 11

I don't really have one explanation for my absence but several. This chapter gave me a great deal of grief - it is far from satisfactory - which is depressing when I've attempted to rewrite it five times over the last six months. I've given some thought to future chapters and perhaps tried to squeeze too many 'seeds' into this one.

Anyway, enough about that.

To those who have stuck around, thank you. It won't take me half a year to upload the next one.

To those who want smut. You'll just have to wait.

* * *

Chapter Eleven

"Get up Mudblood."

The demonic silhouette called out across the garden-arena. A new morning had come – and with it, a fresh blanket of snow over the grounds that covered yesterday's battle. Hermione's elbows buckled under her weight, her body surrounded by soiled slush.

"I said get up!"

The brunette's body seized as she fell face first into the earth. She fought as her internals worked against her – the bread she had been given that morning rising in her throat.

"You worthless piece of shit."

Bellatrix did not lessen the curse she inflicted upon the girl. Not one word, not even a cry for water had escaped the Gryffindor's lips in two days. It hadn't taken Hermione long to figure out that the dark witch had no intention of killing her. She had tested this theory the first morning Bellatrix came to retrieve her from her cell. The raven haired witch now bore a bruised shoulder where the loose stone had struck her through the bars of the cellar door. It had come at a cost – through both torture and loss of food. Three times a day, no matter Hermione's state, Bellatrix dragged her outside and forced her to duel. The girl was often weak but not once did she give in. She'd rather lose a pound of flesh than give an ounce of satisfaction.

"Pathetic. Is this how Mudbloods fight? Lying down?"

The woman's cloak billowed behind her as she made her way over to the crouching girl.

"I told you to get up!" Grabbing Hermione's shoulders, Bellatrix forced the brunette to her feet and thrusted the wand back into her hands. Unlike the Gryffindor, the Death Eater had not broken a sweat. Her head was shielded by her cloak's dark hood and she moved with both grace and agility as she duelled.

"Again." She ordered, her words slicing through the cool air. "And this time, perfectly."

Resuming her place in the arena, Hermione watched Bellatrix walk the length of the field where she stood expectantly. The brunette was short of breath and her numb fingers made holding her wand during this morning's duel even more challenging. She was frightened, more so than she had ever been in her life. More than Dementors. More than death. This woman had survived both. She could invade Hermione's most private thoughts and manipulate her dreams. There was however, one last chilling fact. When given the chance, the girl would actively seek the Death Eater.

Hermione raised her wand. For someone who had been a prisoner of Azkaban, Bellatrix was strict about the rules and traditions of duelling. The bow, the saluting of wands… However, as a student of Hogwarts, the Gryffindor was not. Before the customary routine was complete, an orange jet flew through the air towards the dark witch. Hermione swore under her breath as the woman sidestepped the spell without effort.

"You have to do better than that Mudblood!"

Bellatrix yelled, firing spell after spell until Hermione's knees gave way. The action had infuriated her. It wasn't even fun anymore, this whole 'preparations' ordeal Narcissa had cornered her into was just an irritating chore – a demeaning baby-sitter position. Flicking her wand, she turned to leave towards the house.

"I'm not even going to waste my time on you anymore. You can die out here for all I care!"

_So that's it then? That didn't take much, you stupid cow! _

It took Hermione a moment to realise that she had in fact screamed aloud her thoughts. For the past few days her silence had been deafening; now, her whispers were as loud as war drums as she met the hollow eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Lookie here, the pussy has found her meow."

The older woman sniggered, pacing back to her opponent.

"I almost forgot how sweet it sounded," a crooked wand was thrust into the soft underside of Hermione's jaw. "If you ever ignore me like that again Muddy, I will cut out your tongue. Capiche?"

O~O~O

By the time Bellatrix had wiped her face clean from saliva, Hermione had stopped convulsing from the unforgivable curse.

"You have brought a whole new meaning to _filthy _Mudblood." No one ever dared to spit at her – that was not how pureblood families settled arguments – then again, this frizzy-haired bitch was muggle-born. Her vulgarity simply proved her lack of class. "You need to be taught a lesson."

"What more can you do to me?" The girl's voice was short of breath. "What more can you do to me!" She repeated louder. Hermione's heart thudded in her chest and tears pricked her eyes but her voice remained strong. "Nothing. That's what. There's nothing left!"

"What more can I do to you?" Bellatrix chuckled, throwing Hermione off guard. "Typical Gryffindor." Rolling her eyes and pinching the brunette's cheeks. "I suppose you think you're the heroine of this little adventure? A damsel in distress perhaps?"

Hermione slapped away the woman's hands – who in turn struck her back across the face with twice the force.

"What more can I do to you? What more can you do to Narcissa?"

Bellatrix's expression darkened as Hermione looked up at her confused. The girl's eyes, once scowling, were now wide with concern.

"Brightest witch of your age…"

"Where is she?"

"…and you're too dense to work it out."

"I want to see Narcissa!"

The dark witch was seething. She dare address her sister with such informalities?

"My sister only sees perfection. Let me know when you figure it out." Snatching the wand from Hermione's hand, Bellatrix disapparated into shadows.

O~O~O

As always, Hermione made her way back to the manor alone. Escape was not an option – she had already tried scaling the hedges that surrounded the gardens. Without her wand, she was defenceless against the flora which came to life like Devil's Snare, slowly dragging her deeper into its foliage. If Bellatrix hadn't seen the coat on the ground that day, Hermione would have caught pneumonia, or worse, asphyxiated. The young Gryffindor could remember the look in the dark witch's eyes as she was dragged free and wrapped in the woman's cloak, exposing Bellatrix to the elements. Her appreciation had been silenced by a swift punch in the guts. Whatever it was Hermione saw in the Death Eater's face, she had never seen it since.

Lutin was there to greet Hermione at the door. He had been warned explicitly never to divulge any information about the Vow and rejected the brunette's pleas. The house elf took the girl's overcoats and handed her a mug of hot water – the only beverage he had been instructed to offer. Hermione accepted it graciously – using the ceramic to bring her fingers back to life. Lutin had been quite the life saver. After duelling, Hermione was often at her lowest – Bellatrix possessed a myriad of colourful insults and spells which weighed on the girl physically and emotionally. Lutin was always there to pick her up and on occasion, make her smile. He was the one person the Gryffindor wanted to see – well, there was another however she hadn't been seen since the night Hermione arrived.

"Lutin? Where is Narcissa?" The brunette rested the mug inches under her face to allow the steam to warm her.

The house elf thought carefully.

"Mistress is busy. Very, very busy."

"Busy with what?" She quizzed.

"Mistress has her private affairs. Lutin knows nothing more. Does Miss Granger enjoy her drink?"

Hermione knitted her brows, knowing all too well there was more to the story.

"Is she in the mansion now?"

"Mistress comes and goes for meals. Mistress is very, very busy she is."

Hermione searched for the grandfather clock in the room. It was only 9:34am. If Narcissa had returned for breakfast, they would have missed each other while she was duelling Bellatrix.

"Miss Granger looks tired. She must rest before Mistress' sister returns."

The brunette sighed into her drink.

"I don't want to do this anymore, Lutin. Every day that…thing makes me fight her. I can't compete with a Death Eater…certainly not when I'm at my weakest…" She rubbed her neck where it had be scratched red raw. "She forgot to relieve the pain again…"

"Madame LeStrange never forgets. Miss Granger must try harder for her sake." At that moment the house elf stood to attention, his ears alert as if being called. "Lutin must go. Miss Granger must rest now. Maybe with a book?" Taking a tray off the table, Lutin disapperated with a china teapot and two cups.

Hermione sat down in one of the leather sofas with an advanced spell book by her side. She had been given access to the first floor's library to pass the time. Lutin had presented her a mountain of books, much to the girl's delight. However she could never make it past the first chapter as she was often too tired for much else. The brunette flicked though some of the pages, distracting herself from the familiar ache that was rapidly returning. As much as Hermione hated the thought of being anywhere near Bellatrix, the pain often subsided when they were together. When she found herself alone, her mind frequently thought of the woman clad in black – both dreading and praying that she would materialise by her side.

The young witch concentrated harder on the pages in front of her – pushing the image of Bellatrix touching her face out of her mind – feeling her stomach churn at the very thought. Many of the paragraphs had notes beside them, scribbled in faded ink. Hermione could just make out the words – they were instructions, similar to Harry's Potion textbook. As the brunette flicked through the pages, the directions became more detailed and resembled the Dark Arts rather than Charms – ranging from the specific angle at which a wand should be held to unimaginable torture. Hermione returned to the beginning of the book. Something written had been crossed out on the title page, however just above it were the cursive initials '_N.B'._ Hermione held the book a little closer and began reading the first chapter, taking in the basic instructions. Without a wand it was impossible to judge if what she was doing was correct but nonetheless she practiced holding a quill the way the notes described.

O~O~O

"I didn't ask for this, Narcissa!"

"Well nor did I, Bellatrix. Lower your voice…the Mudblood will hear you with the way you're carrying on. Honestly."

In a standoff, both women blocked each other's way. The eldest – the front door, and the younger - the library.

"Rich coming from you, sister. When will you let it go? Every year you're like this." Bellatrix hissed.

"Then give me a reason not to be." The blonde retorted, clenching her fists until her knuckles whitened.

"You can't can you? Because you snatch everyone I love away from me. And when I thought I could hold on to one thing, my son, your nephew, you dragged him into this mess. Don't even get me started on that girl…"

"The Mudblood can't even duel! She's useless to us."

Narcissa shook her head, bewildered by her sister's absurdity. "Think again, Bellatrix. In case you have forgotten, three lives hang in the balance."

"I haven't forgotten, Cissy." The Death Eater closed the gap between them, forcing their fingers to intertwine. The younger sister winced at the pain as her digits were harshly bent backwards. "Don't be like this, Cissy." The dark witch pouted, her voice neither accommodating sympathy nor tenderness. "Ditch your little princess for today and play hooky with me."

Freeing her hand, Narcissa removed herself from her sister's grasp. Her expression distant and unforgiving. "I want you gone. Tonight." Squaring her shoulders, the lady of the manor turned on her heel and went to answer the door.

O~O~O

"Get up Mudblood."

Hermione pretended to awake from a deep sleep. A sinkhole of guilt had opened in the pit of her stomach since overhearing the women's dispute. She felt sick as she replayed the conversation in her head.

_Your lives rest on the blade of a knife now, all because of her…I know what's best for you and Draco. I keep all three of you alive. Remember that, Cissy!...What previous involvement? I didn't even know her, Bella. I never wanted this to happen to me, I only wanted to keep Draco safe…_

_"I suppose you think you're the heroine of this little adventure? A damsel in distress perhaps?...What more can I do to you? What more can you do to Narcissa?"_

Hermione was lost for words. Sweat developed on her brow as she took in the Death Eater's words. Out of all the people on Earth, it took a psychotic murderess to make her question if she, Hermione Granger, was actually the bad guy this time.

Opening her eyes, she saw Bellatrix standing above her, the spell book resting open in her fingers. It had been decades since she had laid eyes on her old work – it was a surprise to her that Cissy had kept it all these years. Her school days were full of experimentation – surpassing her peers, a young Bellatrix deviated from the curricula – often paddling in the waters of the dark arts. These pages empowered a daughter that should have been born a son. They split her soul; and Cissy would never forgive her for killing their Father – sweet, naïve Narcissa.

"Ahem."

Bellatrix looked up from the textbook to see Hermione standing in front of her. The girl had only cleared her throat but she immediately saw her mistake and dropped her eyes to the floor.

"What?" The woman quizzed angrily, snapping the book shut. "Don't think that 'cause you're now talking that you can start getting cocky, Mudblood. Though to be fair…you don't seem too keen on getting cock, do you?" Laughing aloud, she threw the text on the ground in front of her. Hermione rolled her eyes and bent down to pick it up. It was one of the less crude 'jokes' the Death Eater had made today.

The brunette was stopped by a boot digging into her shoulder.

"Mmm, yes." The dark witch purred, "You look so much better on your hands and knees." Gripping a tuft of chestnut hair she forced Hermione to look at her. "Are you hungry, Muddy?" The seduction in the Death Eater's voice barely masked her irritation. She hated the days leading up to the New Year and she needed to blow off some steam.

Hermione's face flushed as she shook her head, grimacing as she felt some of her hair break away from her scalp.

"Too bad." She smiled wickedly, burrowing her heel deeper into the pocket of the girl's clavicle.

"Poor little Mudblood." The woman mocked, sliding her free hand down her leg to hike up her dress "All those nights you spent dreaming about her screaming your name, Gratcher. But she hasn't been the only one on your mind, has she?"

_Gratcher? _

Hermione looked up at the dark witch, she was unable to hide her humiliation as tears pierced her eyes. She was irate. These past three days Bellatrix had broken her down and she didn't even know _whose _life she was ruining?

"Granger...It's Granger! How could you not have known!" It was difficult for her words to escape from a kneeling position. To be nothing, a nobody...this probably hurt the Gryffindor more than any other cards the woman had dealt her.

"Don't flatter yourself, girlie." Kicking the brunette backwards, Bellatrix paced herself towards the adolescent "You're yet to impress me. For now, you're hardly worth remembering."

Hermione's arms were pinned under the strength of the Death Eater who had straddled her. The dark witch took great pleasure in watching the girl struggle, pleading for the woman to get off.

"Come now, Muddy," resting her knife's blade against the Gryffindor's cheek, hushing her protests into a whimper. She spoke into the bruises of her collarbone, watching with fascination as they already began to resemble the colour of plums. "It burdens you, doesn't it?" Hermione yelped as the dagger's handle twisted into the tender parts of her neck. "To realise that your _perfection_ only equates to a Pureblood's mediocrity."

"Get off!" The attempts were futile against the dark witch, who ground herself against each kick the girl made.

The poisonous tip of the Death Eater's tongue traced the shell of Hermione's ear, whispering tenderness and lies. "I want to make you perfect. My perfection." Trailing the blade between the brunette's breasts, the knife divided her shirt into two with one long movement.

Hermione's face burned, her breath shallow to avoid the tip of the blade that rested just above her left breast. Not again, she didn't want to be gored by the magical weapon. Her abdomen had healed unnaturally fast but the ache remained, it always did. There was nowhere that didn't. She shuddered as the Death Eater unwrapped her like a greedy child on Christmas morning.

"What fantasy shall we make come true, _Granger?" _The last two syllables fell off her tongue as if they were the most revolting sounds in the English language. "The one where you do what I say? Or the one where you're driven to end it all?"

"The only thing that'll be ending is your life!"

Hermione turned her head to avoid the Death Eater's lips. Her stomach churned and she shut her eyes as she felt the woman tongue at her jugular before sucking hard.

"Mmm that's the spirit, Muddy."

The grip around her wrists lessened and upon instinct Hermione threw herself at the raven haired witch. Throwing all her strength behind herself to inflict any sort of damage to the woman that made her feel so much resentment. Scratching, punching, kicking.

A shriek echoed around the library and Hermione dropped to the floor into the foetal position, whimpering. She clutched her neck with one hand and dug her fingers into her temple with the other. Winning was all too easy for the woman who held so much control.

"Make it stop! Make it stop!" She screamed at the sadist who stood above her, biting her lip.

"But it feels so good when you hate me so bad, my little lioness. Let me see your claws, bare your teeth!"

Hermione's head spun in confusion. She felt the hatred in her heart but pleasing the raven haired witch was the last thing she wanted.

Bellatrix took a seat on the leather sofa, watching with content as the helpless display withered in front of her.

"Look at me, Muddy."

Hermione shook her head and kept her eyes to the ground, closed tight.

"Look at me!"

With a flick of her wand, the brunette's head shot up and her eyes opened to find the raven woman with her legs wide. Her signature dress was up around her knees and her long fingers played with her wet cunt under her knickers.

"How much do you hate me?" She moaned softly, sliding two fingers into herself.

"What? Fuck! You're sick, LeStrange!" Hermione yelled out as loud as she could muster.

The woman chuckled. She straightened up and walked over to the crouching brunette. She felt _Him_ calling. He had been waiting for too long now. It was time to go. But not before she wiped her fingers across the Gryffindor's lips.

"Tut, tut. Your filthy mouth will get you into a lot of trouble one of these days, Muddy." Digging her nail into Hermione's fresh neck wounds.

A simple pop, and the woman was gone. The library silent. And Hermione left to hold herself together.

O~O~O

The crunch of snow was crisp under boots. Hermione inhaled deeply as fresh air filled her lungs. The grounds of the manor were forever blanketed under a sheet of frost from the grass to the hedges to the fountains. A borrowed coat warmed her – the fabric providing comfort.

There was no question about the decision she had made as she lay on the floor of the library only a couple of hours ago. She could either allow Bellatrix to break her or she could beat her at her own sport. There would be no mercy shown to a Muggle-born in a Pureblood world. The very least she could do was learn how to defend herself. Giving in was not an option.

Filling a scarf with snow, the Gryffindor wrapped it around her neck tightly to numb the curse.

Under her arm she carried the Charms textbook. Bellatrix had purposely left Hermione's wand between some random chapters. A test of character you may call it. If she came back to find the girl dead, she would have some satisfaction knowing in advance that the Mudblood would never have lasted to uphold her end of the vow.

Hermione turned to the first chapter, coordinating the book and her wand in both hands. Following the same instructions as she had done with the quill, she held her wand at forty-two degrees to cast a defensive spell. After some deliberation she chose the Patronus.

_If anything else, I'm in need of a happy thought._

She concentrated on the world before the Manor. Her summer vacation to France with her parents…Harry and Ron at Hagrid's...the moment she found out that she was a witch…old parchment…Hogwarts…peppermint…lavender…the stolen photograph…

"No, no, no!" She cried out in frustration. "It's not enough!"

From her bedroom window, Narcissa had been supervising with great interest; watching the figure persevering yet struggling nonetheless. The matriarch stood with immaculate posture, her arms folded across her chest. She admired the Mudblood's determination despite the afternoon she had spent with her deranged sister. The blonde had required the use of a silencing charm to drown out the disturbance while she dealt with her guest.

Turning the page, Hermione shook off the failure and concentrated on another instruction. This time, an aggressive spell. She positioned her wand at sixty-three degrees, just like how the notes instructed.

"Incendio!"

The girl was taken aback by the strength of her spell as she applied her newly equipped techniques. A fireball collided with the snow, melting the icy ground. Steam gushed from the earth beneath the ball of flames before it extinguished – leaving behind a small crater at her feet.

Hermione's eyes were wide as she examined the damage. She cast another at her usual angle to compare – it wasn't nearly as effective. Her heart beat excitedly, eager to retry.

Narcissa was equally surprised. She hadn't expected the young witch to show much potential; even now Draco continued to struggle with the accuracy of the wand's position. She watched on intrigued as the girl worked through nearly the first chapter without much difficulty.

_It's still early days. You have so much to learn and time is not on your side. _

At that moment, this weak confidence was sufficient to ease the blonde's concern.

Hermione felt invigorated with her new purpose. Every technique she mastered improved her spells tenfold. She began to fall into that trance – the one where her thirst for knowledge cannot be quenched. These newfound skills lit a fire within her. She now understood what the dark witch meant by perfection. She desired it for herself. Bellatrix was not fear. She was a tool, a chance, to hone Hermione's own abilities - _a way, _she thought, _to help Harry. _

"I don't suppose you are going to restore my garden, Miss Granger?"

Hermione dropped the book in surprise, turning to see Narcissa standing behind her. She was robed in a white, double-breasted coat and her hair was down, framing her face. The woman exchanged a warm smile as she walked past the younger witch to retrieve the fallen text.

"Oh, I-I'm sorry…" she rushed, casting a renewal charm to repair the surrounding area. It had felt like a life time since she last spoke to the lady in white. She quickly became flustered – not knowing which angle to hold the wand.

"Here," the blonde offered, running her fingers down the length of Hermione's arm, Narcissa guided the brunette's wand wielding hand "you can hold it as you please. It's not a duelling spell. But personally, I do prefer a simple eighty degrees, myself."

She stepped back slightly, allowing the girl to finish the job as she flicked through the pages. How many hours she spent obsessing over Bella's work. No matter how much she scrutinised the pages, she could never find her answers. It only got worse when her sister left home. But she promised her that she would learn each page by heart. She promised perfection.

Narcissa put her hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"I will get the elves to see to this later. Why don't you come inside with me?" she gave the brunette a smile, linking their arms.

The younger witch reddened, biting her lower lip to contain a smile. Narcissa led Hermione to the Manor's library– perhaps the last place she wanted to return to – and welcomed her to sit down on a leather sofa, thankfully, one that was in the opposite wing. Lutin was already there waiting with a china tea set balanced on a silver platter. Narcissa dismissed the house elf, instructing him not to disturb them.

"Apologises for my sister's actions," the click of a door locking sounded as the woman walked over to join Hermione "if I had known what was going on I would have put an end to it." She lied, looking at the brunette over her cup.

Hermione suddenly felt sick as she remembered Bellatrix's knife against her skin.

"I understand it's something you would choose to forget but it is important that you realise that although my sister at times can be…callous, it is under my instruction that she will aid you in fulfilling your part of the Vow."

Hermione listened carefully, nodding into her cup.

"You have chosen life, Miss Granger," the woman placed her hand on the brunette's knee "it's my intention that you achieve this outcome. I will speak to her. As a guest in my home I would feel better knowing you're accommodated to."

The Gryffindor felt lightheaded. This morning had exhausted her but it was a mix of Narcissa's tenderness and reassurance overwhelmed her. She had missed the feeling of being cared for.

"I had no idea that I had been doing it wrong all this time…" she mumbled, embarrassed.

"It's something the curriculum nowadays overlooks. Schools spend less time on quality and more on quantity. The world is going backwards." Narcissa sighed, rubbing her thumb against Hermione's jeans.

"W-will I return to school?"

"Of course. There's nothing more important than an education. Consider your future visits here as extracurricular tuition."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, her face reddening as the woman applied additional pressure.

"Let me help you with that."

Narcissa put down her cup and moved closer to Hermione so they were hip-to-hip on the sofa, the brunette pushed against the arm of the chair. The blonde leaned over the girl, loosening the belt of Hermione's coat.

"Oh," she exclaimed, examining the rosy bite on the girl's neck. "You must have done something to deserve this…" she quizzed, removing the coat a bit more bitterly.

"Please don't trouble yourself..."

Hermione was unable to hide her scarlet cheeks as slender fingers undid her buttons. What lay underneath ignited Narcissa's jealousy – Hermione's shirt had been magically repaired but she knew all too well that Bellatrix had, had something to do with its ruin.

"Do you know that you missed Christmas?" changing the subject, keeping her composure steady.

The brunette shook her head, forgetting all about the holiday season.

"Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Miss Granger."

Narcissa watched Hermione finish her tea. She had considered the consequences of her staying too long in the Manor. Psychologically, the girl needed a break from what would become her new life. She needed her sister's expertise however there was no way Narcissa could tame the beast inside Bellatrix without constant supervision. The woman couldn't afford for her last chance to fail so soon. Especially before she got her revenge. Then there was the Dark Lord who required her home. If he knew that Narcissa was harbouring a Mudblood, Potter's Mudblood, there would be no forgiveness. The girl needed an alias.

Hermione could feel the woman's eyes on her. She stole a glance, wondering if the lady was thinking about her as much as the Gryffindor was about the lady.

There was a hesitant rap at the door and the two figures simultaneously turned their heads.

"Enter." Narcissa ordered. Unlocking the door, she contained her annoyance for the disturbance.

Lutin apparated inside. He recoiled as he saw the look in his mistress' eyes.

"You best have a good excuse, elf." She smiled with faux sweetness.

"Mistress, Mademoiselle Josette Farlorne is here."

Narcissa rubbed her temples, using all her self-control to not lash out at the house elf.

"Didn't you send an owl saying that I would see her next week?"

Hermione looked from the woman to the elf as if the conversation was a game of tennis. There had been a number of girls, roughly her age or a few years older, that frequented the manor. She often heard them come and go – and Bellatrix had made reference to them as 'princesses' whatever that meant. Some didn't even stay long enough for a cup of tea, others – their visits were much more extended.

"Lutin did, Mistress. Lutin promises. Lord Farlorne is with her."

Narcissa's eyes were as wide as dinner plates.

_Why didn't you tell me that first you useless elf!_

"Very well." Straightening up she looked to Hermione whose brows furrowed with questions. "I'd like you to have supper with me." The woman said matter-of-factly. "Seven? Lutin, see that Miss Granger is tended to. Refreshments, a bath, some new clothes. Whatever she likes. Now, if you'd excuse me."

Turning on her heel, the blonde left briskly.

O~O~O

It was nightfall by the time Hermione awoke. The ambience in the library was calm and she felt more relaxed after a peaceful afternoon with Lutin. In between chores, he took his turn to play wizards chess with Hermione. The concept was so alien to him; being seen as an equal by a witch. Was this how Dobby felt around Harry Potter? Hermione had enjoyed the most part of her day. After a bath and something substantial in her belly, she felt more at ease in the Manor. She instantly reddened as she remembered Narcissa's invitation. Hermione recalled the gentle caresses of the blonde, her lavender scented perfume and the regal looks both she and Bellatrix shared.

_Bellatrix. _

In the eyes of Hermione, that woman was a Siren. A serpentine temptress whose presence was equalling entrancing as it was dangerous. A sadist who Hermione could not keep her distance from. When the pain got all too much, Bellatrix was there to take it away. She was the inflictor of suffering and the bearer of pleasure; and it was all too sickening to think about.

_"I want to make you perfect. My perfection." _

Hermione would aim for perfection – but she would never be _hers_. Undoubtedly, Bellatrix had her own unique magnetism. There was a fetish for precision and knowledge that rivalled the Gryffindor's. Without her animalism, the young witch imagined the woman could have accomplished things far greater than becoming Voldemort's puppet.

Hermione retraced her steps through the expansive house, tiptoeing as she passed doorways. This was Malfoy Manor after all; it would be naïve to assume that only immediate family walked these corridors.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Hermione turned her head to see Bellatrix looking down at her from the second story bannister. She had never seen the dark witch look so tired. Her curls were pulled back into a messy ponytail and she cradled a wine glass that appeared to contain something stronger than grapes.

"The dining room?" The brunette pointed to the double doors across the hall.

"Do you have a written invitation?"

Hermione shook her head, somewhat confused why she would need a formal letter.

"VIPs only." She teased, drinking from her glass.

The brunette rolled her eyes, remembering Bellatrix for what she was – a wicked, spoilt Pureblood. Acting as if she didn't care, Hermione walked over to the double doors. As she reached for the handle she immediately pulled away. The brass knobs felt like they had been resting in hot coals.

"Do you really think I'm going to let you attend supper dressed like that?" She insulted, pointing her wand at Hermione's clothes. "Cissy will have a fit."

Hermione glared up at the witch who swirled the dark liquid in her glass.

"It's not like I have spare ball gown that I can change into." Hermione shot back sarcastically.

Tipping her head back, Bellatrix downed what was left and rested the crystal on the railing. Finally, the Mudblood showed some fight again.

"Come with me." Bellatrix signalled and disappeared across the landing.

Hermione was apprehensive to follow but she found her feet bounding up the stairs to keep pace with the woman who had vanished from sight. It was her second time that she had been on this floor and as she peered into each room she noticed that each one was uniquely furnished with posh antiques and traditionally styled hangings.

After the fifth doorway she found Bellatrix in a bedroom like no other she had passed. The room was expansive yet the fixtures were simple. On one side of the room, Bellatrix was rummaging in a handcrafted wardrobe.

Hermione stepped inside quietly so not to draw attention to herself. She walked over to a bookcase and ran her fingers along their spines. They were all hardcover books, each protected by dyed leather casings. Many of them she did not know as they covered forbidden magic but there was one that caught her eye – a spine with a symbol engraved in golden ink. It was simple, just a triangle with two semicircles drawn inside. The thought of Bellatrix reading for pleasure both amused and fascinated the girl. _Which authors does she read? Are any fiction? Does she take a book when she travels? _

The brunette paced herself, looking at every trinket on the vanity table beside the bookcase. There was only one photograph – the stolen frame from Slughorn's house. It had been many weeks since Hermione had last seen it. Her heart beat fast as she gazed upon Narcissa in her adolescence. The young pureblood stood as proudly as ever, her eldest sister's hand placed discreetly on her waist.

"Beautiful isn't she?"

Startled, Hermione looked up to see Bellatrix standing behind her in the reflection of the mirror. Her face burned, embarrassed to be caught.

"Isn't she?" The woman repeated.

Hermione shrugged "She's pretty."

Bellatrix cornered Hermione into the table.

"_Pretty _is what you call the scarf your grandmother knits you. _Pretty _is the French braid your stupid school friends do. Narcissa is many things but she is not _pretty._" Their eyes met briefly before the brunette turned away. Hermione knew Bellatrix was right. Why she kept denying it was another mystery altogether.

"Tell me, Muddy, does your boyfriend know that you prefer the fairer sex?"

_I'm still working it out…_ she admitted to herself, aware that the woman could read her thoughts.

Bellatrix cocked an eyebrow, watching Hermione closely in the mirror.

"…and Ron isn't my boyfriend!" she added defensively.

"Of course he isn't," she cooed. Slender fingers brushed against pockets of flesh, neither withdrawing nor inflicting pain. The girl leaned into the forbidden touch – this is what she wanted, this is why she had climbed the stairs - relief. The breath of the woman was sweet from mead and peppermint and Hermione fought herself to not give into her senses. The Death Eater stared intensely into young witch's eyes as she spoke "who could ever love a Mudblood?"

Words sliced deep. Hermione suddenly felt sick being near the raven haired witch, shouldering her away.

"And who could ever love a deranged, psychopathic wench!" Slapping away the Death Eater's hands.

There it was, the Mudblood's passionate anger. She craved it. It's what kept her up at night. With an index finger, Bellatrix turned Hermione's chin so that they were now face to face.

"I can name one."

Flicking Hermione's nose, Bellatrix chuckled to herself as she walked over to the bed where a blue dress, which could easily be mistaken for black, had been lain out.

Hermione growled, the dark witch was successful at getting under her skin.

_"It feels so good when you hate me so bad"_

As far as the Gryffindor was concerned, showing affection to get back at the Death Eater was an oxymoron in itself.

"Put this on. It's better than anything you own."

Hermione took it without a word and held it in front of her. It was beautiful. Simple, floor-length with a sweetheart neckline. The material was unlike any the girl had ever seen – it was silky yet seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. She couldn't help a smile as she stared at herself in the mirror.

"Thank you."

Bellatrix took a seat on the edge of the bed, returning the smile. "Put it on."

Hermione beamed, gathering the dress to go to the bathroom.

"Tut, tut." The bedroom door slammed in her face and locked itself upon Bellatrix's command. "Put it on, here."

The Gryffindor withdrew her own wand and pointed it at the Death Eater. Eager for an opportunity to re-duel - more confident now knowing that another witch in the house was on her side.

"Make me."

"Stop with the act, Muddy." Disarming the girl with a silent Expelliarmus, "You're not half as brave as you think. And you don't think half as much as you should. Even if you lived nine lives, that dress would still be worth more than you. Now you can either miss your date or you can get ready for it." Losing her patience.

Hermione turned around so her back was facing the older witch, cursing her. As fast as she could she removed her blouse and jeans.

"What's the hurry? I like a slow show." Bellatrix called out, hungrily staring after the girl as she clothed herself with the dress.

Hermione ignored her voyeur and walked over to the mirror, admiring herself as she swished the material from side to side. It fit perfectly. Is this really what one wore to a casual supper at the Malfoy's?

The dark witch had crept up behind her without notice. "One last thing." Placing her hand around the girl's throat, she squeezed tightly, oblivious to desperate fingernails clawing at her hands to stop. It pained the girl, feeling her skin split and contract. When she released, Hermione's neck had returned to normal – completely without blemish. Weeks of scores fading within seconds.

"Enjoy your supper."

Throwing some belongings into the fireplace, Bellatrix grabbed a handful of floo powder and vanished with a bang without looking back.

* * *

I suppose the biggest challenge is not rushing the relationships of the characters. Often I read fics and protagonist and antagonist fall in love so quickly it's crazy (sometimes it's fun and works! But if you're stabbed it's hard to believe you'll be head over heels for them the next day). If I failed here, constructive criticism is most appreciated. A lot happened in one day. Future chapters won't be a day-to-day account.


	12. Chapter 12

Hi guys! Phew. I'm so happy that last chapter is out of the way. After posting I cursed myself for not breaking it up into smaller chapters but hey, here's a fresh update. A big thank you to my new followers/favourite-button-pusherers. But most of all, thank you to all those who review *virtual cupcakes for everyone* You make me want continuously update and better the story. Here's a bit of Bella. Hopefully this will explain some questions.

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Chapter Twelve

Somewhere within the LeStrange's abode, Bellatrix lay on the floor; a clock and a single teacup beside her. Before Rodolphus had been captured by Aurors, he often did international recruitment for the Dark Lord – travelling to Eastern Europe and as far as Turkmenistan. Often he would bring back gifts and spices for his wife whom always expected something upon his return. Their marriage, like many Pureblood's, was unconventional and highly political. Neither heart belonged to the other; the only thing they had in common was their devotion to their Lord.

She took another sip. The opium in the tea numbed her. It felt good not to feel again. Her dark eyes looked over to the clock in front of her. 7:07. If everything was going to plan, by now, Narcissa would have offered the Mudblood an aperitif – the girl would accept it. One, because no one could deny an offer from the true Siren of the Black family and secondly, Hermione would be embarrassed, feeling ridiculously overdressed compared to her host. Bellatrix chuckled to herself, wondering what Cissy thought of her little detail. In another thirteen minutes the first course would arrive followed by two more, then the key would be offered. Not even her drugged tea could sedate the jealously the raven haired witch felt. She could tolerate spending some time away but a Mudblood by Cissy's side?

_"I'm still working it out…" _wasn't exactly the response Bellatrix was hoping for. They didn't have room for some bi-curious git who wouldn't take the bait.

Narcissa had kept her distance since Hermione arrived at the Manor. Bellatrix insisted she hurry things along. Her sister had seen the blonde court suitors and reduce them to a blubbering mess faster than anyone she knew. The younger sibling asserted that she could handle it herself and was reluctant to have dinner at all with the girl. The Death Eater had sworn that if supper didn't go ahead, she would make it a nightmare for Cissy during the days that surrounded New Years. It was like playing match-maker with Lucius all over again.

O~O~O

_The sun had barely peaked over the gardens. Inside the Black house, the middle child crept towards the bedroom at the opposite end of the landing. Unlocking the door, she swore silently as her hands shook uncontrollably. Andromeda couldn't help but breathe through her mouth seeing that her nose was blocked from crying all night. _

_She had been forbidden to enter Bellatrix's room. It was strictly off limits to her 'traitorous filth' as her sister so eloquently described. Taking a deep breath, she stepped soundlessly into the darkness. Clothes, parchment and books littered the floor – much to their parents disdain. Somewhere in a desk drawer was an engagement ring which had been arranged years in advance. This would be Bellatrix's last New Year's Eve as a Black. Her new name felt alien on the sister's tongue. Bellatrix LeStrange. _

_Andromeda knew exactly what she was looking for as she neared the bedside table. Her doppelgänger always kept the book in the same spot. _

_"Cissy? Is that you?" _

_Andromeda held her breath, she hadn't expected her sister to rouse. _

_"Go away. It's too early." She mumbled into her pillow._

_Her heart hammered in her chest, all she needed was the book. If she was quick she could leave before Bellatrix had time to wake up._

_As she reached for the textbook, a hand gripped her already bruised wrists and dragged her onto the bed and into an embrace._

_"Alright you can stay but shut up." The eldest said sleepily, kissing her shoulders. _

_It only took seconds to realise that the other person in her bed was not Narcissa. Literally kicking Andromeda out of bed, Bellatrix illuminated the room to find her sister puffy-eyed on the floor._

_"Why the fuck are you here? Huh? What have I said about coming into my room?" Wiping her lips on her own pyjama shirt as if to remove all trace of the girl before her._

_ "Bella, please. Don't get angry…"_

_"Who? Me? Oh, I'm not angry, Dromeda. Why would I be angry over YOU coming into MY room, crawling into MY bed? You fucking hypocrite." _

_Andromeda cringed. _

_"It wasn't even like that Bella. You're the one who…it doesn't matter…I need your Charms textbook…you know the one…" _

_Bellatrix eyed her suspiciously. It was the first time this morning that she actually saw her sister. Her hair wasn't perfect like it usually was. Her face was blotchy and red. And she had some blood stains on her nightgown. _

_"What've you been up to, Dromeda? You didn't bring that Gryffindor here did you?" _

_"I just need the book, Bella. You'll have it back soon."_

_"Why all the secrets?"_

_"Please…"_

_"No. You can't have it. Get lost. I'm going back to bed."_

_Andromeda threw herself at her sister's feet. Sobbing uncontrollably. _

_"Please…please" she whispered, over and over again until Bellatrix kicked herself free. _

_"I'll get Father if you don't shut up." _

_"This is why I'm here Bella! It's Papa…" she stammered before breaking down into tears again._

_Bellatrix handed her a tissue. Finally interested with what she had to say._

_"Last night…he and Mama were fighting…about the same thing they always do…" looking up she saw the anger and guilt plagued in her sister's eyes. "I don't know what time he came home…but he woke me up…and he asked me how much I wanted a baby boy to take the Black's name…and when I said that I didn't care he slapped me…he said that he had seen the future…he said…I could make all their troubles go away…"_

_The eldest didn't say anything, it had been the longest amount of time she had listened to her sister. Despite her best efforts, she could not shake Andromeda from this 'phase' she had with those whom weren't of their kind. She had kept Andromeda's secret from their parents. The eldest sibling felt it was in her duty to set her sister on the straight and narrow but when she found her in bed with a half-blood for the second time, Bellatrix told her to fuck right out of her life until she grew out of her sick obsession. _

_"You have…unforgivable curses in there don't you?"_

_Bellatrix let out a single laugh. "You want to crucify Father? Piss off." _

_"No, I want to kill whatever's inside of me. I don't know if I am…but if I am…I can't…"_

_Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. "You slut. If you think I'm going to protect you from your half-blood spawn you can think again. I can't wait till they find out."_

_"Shut up Bella!" Grabbing the book from the bedside table, Andromeda fled the room. Bellatrix wasn't too far behind. As they ran across the landing, Bellatrix slowed as the younger sister stopped outside of Narcissa's door._

_"Don't you dare wake her up!" Bellatrix hissed. _

_"Him." Andromeda corrected. _

_The eldest sister death stared the other as she opened the door to the youngest's room. A chair had been knocked over and a suitcase and pair of trousers had been flung on the floor. Laying on the bed was their father, snoring like a hog. His flaccid penis resting on his stomach. _

_Bellatrix closed the door and dragged Andromeda to the hallway._

_"What is he doing in Cissy's room? Where is Cissy?"_

_"Cissy is in my room…she said she wanted to be closer to you…so I swapped her. Just for a night."_

_"But he's naked!"_

_Andromeda raised her eyes to meet her sister's. She could barely admit it to herself let alone another. The tears came before the words. _

_"He raped me, Bella."_

_She looked at her younger sister speechless, retracing everything she had said this morning. She was confused. Her father had never raised a finger to Andromeda. The older sister didn't know what to do, she had never seen someone so empty. Taking her by the hand, Bellatrix raced with Andromeda through the house to the bathroom. Undressed her and turned on the shower to full pressure. For the first time in many months, Bellatrix held her. The two of them sitting on the floor of the shower, crying as the clothed witch scrubbed her sister. Cooing apologies while brushing her hair through her fingers. _

_"This isn't what 'home' is supposed to feel like." She wept._

_"It'll be alright, Dromeda. It'll be alright." She reassured. But she wasn't so sure that it would be. In less than a week she would leave this house to get married and her sisters, Narcissa, would remain unprotected. _

_"I'll be right back, okay?" Kissing Andromeda's forehead "you stay here." _

_Soaking wet, Bellatrix left to get her textbook, dripping water throughout the house. _

_On the way she passed Narcissa's room. She could still hear the brut snoring. Opening the door, she grabbed her father's suitcase and returned to her room._

_The first thing that caught Bellatrix's eye was the Prophecy. She had remembered her father talking about the Hall of Prophecy before. As a senior Minister, he was entitled to access of Level 9. However, Bellatrix had never actually seen a real one. Opening her textbook, she scribbled its description on one of the back pages before placing both hands on it. _

_She felt her head spin as she was warped into the glass, glowing ball. The images flashed at her in rapid succession. She saw a mansion, bigger than any other she'd ever seen. Some people. A young blonde haired boy holding his mother's hand. Bellatrix gasped as she recognised Narcissa – an adult – but it was unmistakeably Narcissa. She was so beautiful. So happy. _

_The montage replayed but she had, had enough. She understood who her father thought he had slept with and for what purpose. Her blood was boiling and her stomach felt sick. Grabbing her book, she ran, tears streaming down her cheeks to Narcissa's room, not caring if she would be heard. Opening her text to the last page, she followed the notes that she had written. _

_"Wake up! Wake up you piece of shit!" Bellatrix swung her arm, hitting her father's testicles at full force. The sleeping man instantly awoke, dry retching from the pain._

_"How could you! Your own daughter!" She bellowed, striking him with a cruciatus curse. It felt good, finally getting back at him after all these years. _

_"Did you know that you fucked the wrong one? Did you know you fucked Andromeda?"_

_Cygnus' eyes rolled into the back of his head, the power of the unforgiveable curse was stronger than any he, himself, had ever inflicted. For he had never held the passion his eldest child had. For she was seeking revenge for what had happened…and what will happen. For love. _

_"Narcissa will never have to go through what Andromeda did! I won't let you do that to her! I hate you! This isn't what home is supposed to feel like!"_

_With a final blow, a bright green light flooded the room before returning to normal. Her father lay motionless on the bed, his body limp. A strong surge reverberated through her body. Bellatrix could feel it happening, just like she had read. Her soul was tearing. Something she never thought possible. The pain was slow – she'd one day come to realise that a tattered soul was easier to break. The young woman hugged herself tightly, desperately wanting herself to remain whole. Tighter and tighter she constricted herself until her ribs bruised and tears pooled at her feet. _

_"Stay with me a while. Just a little longer." She pleaded softly to the dividing forces within her. She held onto the silver, bird skull necklace Narcissa had given her, visibly shaking. _

_"You did this." She whispered to the lifeless man. "You hear me? You made me do this!" thumping her fists against him. "You have no idea! No idea what you've done!" crying into his chest until she tired herself. "Now I'm broken. Andromeda's broken. But not Narcissa. You'll never break her." _

_Grabbing her textbook, she furiously flicked through her pages of notes. She didn't want to be one shattered piece. But she could be two whole, separate fragments. _

_Pointing her wand at her temple, she whispered the spell again and again until she got it right. And she knew when she got it right because whatever had torn inside her was now physically being forced from her shell of a body. A piece of her soul had broken away. She could see it. The tiny orange speck. Floating from her lips. She tried to catch it. But her hands simply passed through it like a ghost. She tried again and again, crying out. Ignoring the body of her father as she jumped in an attempt to reclaim what she had lost. It was useless. She couldn't take it back. The only thing she could do was keep it hidden, keep it safe. So she fixed it to the only thing she could see on the dresser – the mosaic jewellery box._

* * *

Did anyone catch the LoTR reference? :p  
Oh! Before any hxc potter fans attack me about the prophecy...I based it verrrry loosely on the rule. Technicallllly Draco is Cygnus' grandson and Narcissa's father. Him thinking Draco was actually his son kinda makes it about him... Voila! :D *segues away*

Now Narcissa and Hermione are alone. What will happen? You'll find out next update ;)


	13. Chapter 13

ODSAJFASDLFNSDA! Isn't it frustrating when FF is down

In a few days I'll be off to Europe to see my girlfriend so it's unlikely that I'll have anything posted for six weeks. Unless…by some miracle I conjure up something before my final exam. I'll probably handwrite a chapter or two so hopefullllly by the time I get back an update won't be far away ^_^

A biiiig shout out to everyone who PM'ed me over the last week. I LOVED chatting with you and exchanging ideas 3  
And, as always, thank you to everyone who has fav'ed, followed and reviewed! x

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Chapter Thirteen 

Narcissa put her book in her lap and glanced at the clock, 6:59. In one minute she would turn her back on every doctrine that her parents had engrained into her. If only her dear father were alive to see how low she had stooped for atonement.

"Papa would be rolling in his grave…"

She imagined her face being scorched from the Black Family tapestry as was her sister's. Andromeda had all the potential of becoming an influential, and wealthy, member of Pureblood society. And she threw it all away for a Mudblood. Because she said she could no longer trust the family.

"How is what I am doing any different?"

_It was a strange feeling – the one where you wake up suddenly in a bed that isn't yours. Narcissa had done just that upon hearing the commotion at the opposite end of the house. Andromeda didn't normally give up her room so easily but the youngest had her ways of wrapping her sister around her little finger. _

_Narcissa was used to the fighting – she had grown cold. It had become the norm. With Dromeda's help she had learnt to close the doors in her mind. Not even she could reach the memories. They were hidden. Deep. Oh so deep. With locks on every handle. Not to be disturbed. For if she reopened them she would return to the nights where she would cry herself to sleep. It made her feel so childish. So weak. Her Father never cried. One day she would become the head of a household – it was probably best if she grew up now. Bella already had. Even after promising that she would wait. It wasn't her fault. Time doesn't wait. _

Narcissa fluttered her eyelids to bring her back to the present. Hermione had entered the room and the woman could hear the groans of embarrassment even from where she sat. Her dinner guest was grossly overdressed. Yet the patrician witch couldn't help but linger over the slender form, draped in her sister's midnight-sky gown. The one she had bought her because the Death Eater never wore anything nice to her parties. Material, woven by pixies, which entranced gentlemen and turned their wives. The first dress that Bellatrix wore when she kissed her like a lover in front of her husband. From then on Lucius hated that dress. And it stung. Not just because her soul was weary from constant conflict. But the dress reminded her of other times, in what felt like another life. Before she went to Spinner's End. The aristocratic witch couldn't help but be reminded of Bella. It was wrong on so many levels. Mudbloods were supposed to be repulsive, tainted and barbaric. They certainly were not supposed to rival the beauty of Purebloods. After everything that intrusive, little Gryffindor has dragged her through, after making the woman feel so dead and dismantled inside, how could she still provoke so much emotion?

"Good evening, Miss Granger. So glad you could make it." Exchanging a warm smile. Within seconds the façade veiled Narcissa's true feelings and she extended her hand, inviting Hermione to sit beside her on the double sofa by the fireplace.

"You look exquisite." Greeting her with a platonic kiss on both cheeks. "I, myself, feel a little underdressed in comparison."

Hermione was too slow to return the reception properly and instead grinned inwardly – momentarily forgetting that she felt ridiculous next to her host whom wore black dress pants and a simple floral blouse that tied at the back to heighten the woman's figure. The occasions where the lady of the manor would come second-place in 'best-dressed', Hermione imagined, would be few and far between.

"Good evening Madame Malfoy, you look radiant." The brunette stumbled out, tripping over her recited words.

"You flatter me, Miss Granger. I trust you're well rested."

Hermione nodded, a slight uneasiness returning as she recalled her confrontation with Bellatrix.

"I'm pleased to hear. You deserve it after your progress so far."

_From one of the bathrooms, Narcissa could hear the shower running. _

_She walked down the hallway, peaking into the eldest sibling's room. All she wanted was to lay beside her, listening to her mumble dreams. Smelling the peppermint on her linen. Sometimes Bellatrix would allow the blonde to climb inside her mind – there was so much she wanted to teach her, to make her understand – and when words failed there was an alternative. _

_But she wasn't in her bed._

Narcissa glanced up at the clock discreetly. 7:07. She was a woman of business, not of small talk. It was going to be the longest dinner of her life if the girl didn't stop acting like a brick wall.

"What would you say to a pre-supper drink to wet the palate?" She asked, conjuring up some glasses and filling them with a pink, sweet liquid.

Hermione bit down on her own lip as she took the glassware graciously. The woman continued to look at her through heavy lids as she raised her glass delicately.

"To the other side." She whispered in a deepened tone that sent involuntary shivers down Hermione's spine as they clinked their drinks together.

What the 'other side' was, was completely unknown to the brunette. Yet she toasted to it all the same. The aperitif tasted of strawberries and hibiscus flowers, an enjoyable combination that slid down the back of Hermione's throat like silk. She didn't want to seem like a discourteous guest. She had been looking forward to their meeting since before the invitation had even arose. But the moment she had entered the room, she realised that she had not one clue of what they could possibly talk about. The only thing they had in common was - -

"- - the Vow."

Narcissa's eyes shot over her glass at the girl whom was covering her mouth with her hands. The sudden blurt-out took her slightly by surprise (although she didn't show it). A thin lipstick imprint remained as she placed the empty crystal to one side.

"The Vow?" She parroted, shifting herself a little closer to the centre of the sofa "Come now, there will be plenty of time to talk about politics later." Picking up the book beside her, Narcissa walked over to the fireplace and placed the novella on the mantelpiece. Whether or not it was deliberate, Hermione now could appreciate the full silhouette of the woman as the flames behind her gave off a warm glow. Why the blonde insisted to wear heels in her own house puzzled Hermione but she didn't particularly mind. After all, her legs were perfect for it.

The nervousness suddenly heightened in her stomach as she wondered if the woman was a Leglimens like her sister and she forced her mind away from anything that could be deemed as impure.

"What were you reading?"

Narcissa smiled, the woman could sense the brunette was uneasy. _There's a good girl. _She thought to herself as she handled the paperback, flicking through the pages with speed.

"As a matter of fact, I just finished a compilation of academic pieces on Veelas. Fascinating creatures. The concept of beauty turning foul in the heat of the moment is not so dissimilar to our world around us, wouldn't you say?"

Hermione joined her host by the fire whom handed her the written work. Two silhouettes now stood ever so close, heat radiating between them.

Hermione flicked through the pages and looked up at the woman with awe.

"Is this mermish?"

"Clever girl. As well as history and the fine arts, my passion lies with language. It's perhaps the most powerful tool – besides magic of course. As you can imagine, not many merpeople frequent the Manor. So I do my best to keep up my proficiency."

The conversation flowed from there. Throughout dinner between rich foods and delicate meats, the witches shared with each other their love for language, history, music and knowledge. Hermione felt herself completely at ease as she cleaned off the last of her pastry with a silver fork. Not an awkward silence had come between them and even Narcissa was startled by how much the girl knew about topics that exceeded the average dinner conversation. The brunette was full of surprises. The woman actually had somewhat enjoyed their evening. It took her mind off the coming New Year but most of all, she was beginning to develop a curiosity. There were still many questions she needed answers to. But this was not the time.

"I want to show you something." Dabbing her lips with a napkin, Narcissa seemed to glide over to Hermione whom took the woman's offered arm. They walked out the dining hall and into another, slightly more modest chamber.

_As she went to reach for her bedroom door, it swung open. Bellatrix stood in the doorway – a wave of relief washed over the youngest. She was so happy to see her sister still here. The same couldn't be said for the older witch. She didn't expect to see the blonde outside the door…how long had she been standing there? How much had she heard?_

_"Don't you know how to knock?" Was all she said. _

_Narcissa was pushed backwards and the door slammed in her face. She was so confused, it was HER room. _

The woman flinched, enough for Hermione to notice. The blonde, although alert in conversation, had seemed distant at times – almost vacant.

Without missing a beat, Narcissa welcomed Hermione to the entertainment room. Posh chairs were dotted around the carpeted floor, in a pattern that the Gryffindor couldn't quite work out, and an orchestra of instruments stood to attention, ever ready to perform.

"You're free to use this room whenever you wish."

"Thank you so much." Although Hermione was a novice at only a handful of string instruments, she excited to have the opportunity to play so many strange and beautifully crafted instruments.

The brunette spun around to see that the woman hadn't taken her eyes off her. Hermione for the first time felt genuinely happy to be within the confines of the Manor. Perhaps it was the wine, but her confidence had grown in the presence of Narcissa. Her heart thudded with each new topic and when the woman laughed her cheeks turned several shades of pink. She was not just a housewife, she was so much more. All Hermione could hope was that she could mean more to the older witch than just a burden on her soul. "Will you play something?"

"It's been a while since I've played with anyone." Glancing at the brunette sideways

Hermione went scarlet. "I- I beg your pardon?"

"It's been a while since I've played with any one of these instruments." She smiled innocently "But I do have a favourite."

The woman sat on her calves behind a koto and closing her eyes, began to pluck the strings with skilful fingers. Hermione sat in the chair closest, taking in the Eastern melody. The blonde hummed a complimentary tune that could only be described as melancholic.

_She looked down. Something uncomfortable was saturating itself into her nightdress. She screamed as she saw the bloodied handprint embedded in the fabric. _

_"Bella! Bella, please!" She repeated, banging on the door. She had removed her garment – reassured the blood wasn't in fact hers. Semi-nude, frightened and desperate – she continued to call her sister's name. _

Blue eyes shot open and the woman's pupils dilated to a normal ratio. It was getting too much. She couldn't drown it out. Almost everything around her became a trigger.

"Can you dance?"

"Not by myself."

Narcissa was on her feet in no time and held out her hand.

"Then how about in pairs?"

When Hermione had said 'not by myself' she wasn't inviting the woman to dance with her. In fact, she had always been embarrassed by the thought of dancing. She had stuck it out with Krum but with the whole school looking at them, the entire event had been terribly unsettling for her.

"I can't dance."

Narcissa ignored the anxious attempt at a dismissal and instructed the surrounding instruments to play something soft. Hermione hesitantly reached for the woman's hand and their fingers enclosed around each other's in a gentle embrace.

_The door once again opened and the eldest forced her sister inside. Their grip was slick with blood. Elbow deep. Bellatrix led the blonde by her neck, bringing her over to the soiled bed where their father's corpse lay – there was so much blood. His body had been wounded by a weapon belonging to an unskilled assassin. _

The girl had never danced with a woman before. Something felt right about how their hips swayed in sync. She could smell the intoxicating scent of lavender and feel the warmth from her breast.

"You're not bad for someone who 'can't dance'", the woman lifted her arm and Hermione awkwardly twirled through the human arch. The Gryffindor could feel the warm breath on the back of her neck as Narcissa caught her again.

For a split second, Narcissa felt herself dancing with Bellatrix. Her raven hair spilling over her shoulders and her painted lips against her ear.

_"Look at him, Cissy. Today is the day you stop worshipping mortals." _

_The girl walked over to her father. Afraid he'd take a breath and relive the suffering. Shock allowed her to move as time stood still. Nothing had sunk in. She was still thinking about her sister's January wedding. Everything was a blur until she touched her father's face._

_"You made Papa cry." Entrapping a stray tear drop balancing on the edge of the man's sharp jaw. _

_"You have no idea." _

**...TBC...**

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Let me know what you think!


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